Comparable Taboo
by Shieb
Summary: As an alchemist, she should have known better than to ask for more than she was offering. Now Sam's wish has been granted, but at a great price. It'll drag her and stubborn Klara into a conflict they didn't know existed.
1. Prologue: Naivity

~00~

Sam tried to sleep. She tried very hard. It had already been nine when she had gone to bed, with her father's dinner wrapped up with a note on the table. But she had tossed and turned for a couple of hours afterwards. Her eyes were heavy with the need for sleep, but her body rebelled and her mind was completely unbound. No matter how much she wanted to say she was mulling over too many things, the fact of the matter was that there was only one thing on her mind that night. She had completed the circle. Her theory was finished, and all that was left was to put it into action.

No, she told herself. She would have to wait for another day- a safer day; a day when she knew her father would be working until late. But a thought wormed its way into her mind. Her father would be gone for the night. Even though it was supposed to be his day off, he had been called in for duty, and he still wasn't back. It was close to midnight now, which meant that Sam would have another couple of hours of solitude.

Damn, what would her mother say if she saw Sam sneaking around her father's schedule in the dead of night? Would she frown? Would she be ok with it, but want Sam to be honest with her father? The age-old question intruded upon Sam's thoughts again: _What was she like?_

Ok, that was it. Sam wasn't going to lay down for another couple of hours with these torturous thoughts running around her head. She sat up, throwing the covers off. The girl's eyes turned to her bedside table, which bore her reading candle and her nightly book. Tonight, instead of a book telling tales of knights and dragons, or of dramas between teenagers, a book of alchemy, its cover decorated in a delicate and complicated circle, sat upon the wooden surface of the bedside table. Its pages were old, but neat, and its leather covers held both pages of and not of the book. The messily placed pages full of notes Sam had taken for years shuffled noisily as she picked the book up and made her way out of the her room.

Sam's house was odd when compared to other houses. Most houses were a box, with one room turning into another. With Sam's house, it was all on one floor. The front door opened straight into the kitchen and dining room. Then two hallways came off the sides, each with two rooms. Sam's room was the first on the left hallway. She made her way across the kitchen, glanced at the cold dinner with guilt, and entered the first room on the right hallway.

This was the study. At the moment, it was messy, but Sam fought to remedy that. She didn't necessarily organize things, but she did place books on shelves and shuffle papers to fit neatly together. She at least needed the floor space to draw the circle. Finally having shoved everything to the corners of the room, Sam looked at the empty floor and frowned. There was something missing, something she needed to… Oh, yes! Sam glanced around, and then ended up having to dig through the cluttered 'neatness' she had created in order to find a proper piece of drawing chalk.

Digging finally completed and chalk in hand, Sam opened the book she had brought with her. After shuffling through some of the papers, she grabbed on specific one. It was the circle she had created, conveying all scientific theory involved in this transmutation. The girl took a good look at the sheet of paper. Then she set it down and went to work, drawing the circle as perfectly as she could and with an intolerance that wouldn't allow a single line to be out of place. The circle complete, she set down the chalk next to her picture of the circle and moved to grab a bag. She put all the materials that were in the bag in the center of the circle. It was stuff she had gathered over the past few months, and she figured it would compensate for what she was asking for.

There was complete silence in the house for a while. Sam went over everything in her head. She checked and double-checked. There was nothing that would interfere with the circle- it had a wide range of clear floor. The circle was as perfectly drawn as she could get it. The materials had been strenuously calculated and bought. Everything was perfect. Everything was set. Now, all she had to do was perform the alchemy.

Sam closed her eyes, the voice of her father resonating in her head. He had told her once that her mother, when performing alchemy, always offered a prayer beforehand. Taking a steadying breath, and with the light of the circle surrounding her, she offered her thoughts silently.

Almost immediately, she could tell that something was wrong.

"Shit."

**Shieb: Welcome to my Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction. I'll have fairly short chapters, but they'll get longer as the story progresses and I add more pieces to it. Updates generally go with when I can and strongly correlate with the muse. Also, you're allowed to tell me what to do. So if you want Sam to do a particular thing at a particular point in the storyline, tell me, and it just might show up!**


	2. Piles of Trouble

~01~

"Shit. Damn it. Shit!"

That was the only thing she could think of to say. There was nothing else to it. This situation didn't call for an extravagant line of words. The pain of her arm, the memories she had just gained, the strained feeling in her head, the deal she had made… There was no gratification for this, and there was nothing worth cheering or gloating for.

Shit.

What was she just sitting here for? Oh yeah, that's right. Her left arm was gone, and the pain was so much that she just wanted to black out. But that wasn't smart. If she went to sleep now, she would bleed to death in no time. Then who would explain to her father what the hell happened here? Who would erase what she had created? Well there was a goal, at least.

Sam stumbled to her feet. She walked over to the chalk. For a moment, she leaned heavily on the table as she removed her hand from her bleeding stub and fumbled with the chalk. Then she was kneeling on the floor again, a grateful thing when only a shrinking amount of blood was circulating through the body. Another transmutation circle was scrawled on the floor. It was less perfect than the big one, but it would work. She put her hand on it, and in its light, both the transmutation circles and the paper bearing Sam's finished work disappeared.

Sam took a deep breath. It was difficult, and it made Sam nervous that she had already bled this much. The bleeding was going down, thanks to her body's natural defenses, but it wasn't decreasing quickly enough for her to just fall asleep. And she was sorely tempted. Dropping the chalk carelessly, Sam got up, slipped on the blood that was on the study floor, and made it to the hallway. There, she leaned against the wall so that she could make it to the kitchen.

The girl had to stop for a moment. At the doorframe that led to the kitchen, she had to let her body lean completely against the wall. She had lost more blood than she thought, and her knees were shaking. Sam realized that crossing the kitchen was going to be hell. But it was only going to get worse if she waited here.

Despite her poor condition, Sam heard someone coming to the door. Her stomach dropped in dread. A stranger coming to the door would be bad. Her father would be worse. After recovering from this, Sam was going to be absolutely massacred. Sam got her temper from her father, and nobody wanted to be in the same room when either were angry.

Sam's mind moved painfully slow as she wondered why the guest didn't just knock, or simply open the door. She realized the door must be locked when it was forcefully kicked in. Had it really been that long since the alchemy? Had somebody already come running to see what happened?

The gun pointed at Sam puzzled her for a moment. Then she realized it wasn't somebody running to her rescue. This man was someone who was running from something. Judging by his bloodied military uniform and generally spooked appearance, Sam guessed he was running from true military men. Maybe her father was one of the people chasing him. Damn it. That would lead him straight here!

Oh well. If she stood here much longer, she would fall, and then she would pass out. She would be of no help to anyone like that, and she certainly wouldn't survive. So what would she do? She could talk to him. That'd give the military time to track him down. But what would she say? What _could_ she say while he was staring at her bleeding stub in such surprise?

"A military man raising his gun at an innocent child? That's not like the military." The words were out of her mouth before she could think. But apparently it was the right thing to say, because the man laughed.

"Not like the military? You must know very little about it. That's common enough."

"My father's in the military." was Sam's stung retort.

"Another dog to be pulled along on a leash, that's all."

Sam's slow brain was unable to catch and suppress the anger that boiled up in defense of her father. Only his training allowed her to stay still, just as it was the only thing that had made her move towards the bathroom, and just as it was the only thing that was keeping her legs from buckling. In fact, she took advantage of the blood that was slowly dripping from her stub. She dipped her fingers in it and quickly devised a circle on the wall. If he was an enemy, she would not hesitate to use her meager amount of energy to destroy him. Her sole interest right now was survival.

"Let me guess. You're one of those guys who're in a rebellion? Right?"

"Something like that." the man snickered.

"Well, although I agree with your ideals, I'm going to have to apologize."

This drew the man up a notch. He didn't expect anything like an apology from a girl he was holding at gun point.

"What for?" he asked suspiciously.

"For talking so long. You see, by doing so, I have caused you to neglect closing the door. So in a way, it's my fault you've gotten shot."

"What do you mean I've-"

The man's angry voice was cut off by the sharp sound of a gun. He fell to his knee with a cry from the impact. Immediately into view came a small troupe of military men. Sam's father pointed his gun at the stranger's head.

"Excuse me. But if you make a move, we'll be forced to kill you."

It was here that Sam's knees gave out. She sank to the floor, even the air mocking her and causing pain as it brushed against the exposed flesh. Her breath was too quick, and she knew she must look very pale, because she felt cold.

"Could you take him from here, Hughes?"

"What? Me? I'm not a gun man!"

Sam chuckled as she listened to the group quarrel. Finally, somebody was put in charge of the renegade. Sam's father came to her and crouched in front of her. His eyes widened as he saw the blood.

"Are you ok?" he said in an even, quiet voice.

"You wouldn't happen to have a female in the group, would you? I need some help with bandages."

Putting a smile on her face would cost too much energy, so she did without. Her father rose from his position and crossed to the door. Surprisingly, instead of calling for the blond female in the group, he grabbed the renegade soldier, who was being cuffed, by the front of his shirt and lifted him up.

"What did you do to my daughter?" The man's voice was feral, and he sounded ready to kill. Sam found herself frightened, though not half as much as the renegade.

"I-I didn't do anything! She was like this when I got here!"

Sam could see her father preparing to shout something nasty at the innocent man, and the force of her own shout tilted her weak body forwards.

"Father, don't! This isn't his fault!"

Her father's sharp gaze made Sam look at the ground. She didn't think she would have to confess this soon. No, she had known she would. She had just hoped otherwise.

"It's my fault. The loss of my arm is a result of my own actions."

There was a long moment in which Sam brought up her eyes and locked them with her father's. He didn't know what to think. She could tell. He had expected somebody else to have done something to her, but how could he shout at his own daughter? She was sure he would get over his confusion soon. She could already see him recovering as the female in the group came through the door and helped Sam to her feet. Trying not to meet her father's eyes, Sam made her way to the bathroom and helped to bandage herself up. She couldn't remember much after that. The renegade was taken away, though he fought to avoid it. But Sam passed out before she could know that an investigations team was to be called in, on account of all the blood.


	3. Unexpected Visit

~02~

Sam woke up many times. However, those times were so brief and so fuzzy that she didn't remember more than small moments of seeing a white room. By the time she was ready to fully wake up, she felt dead tired and decided to merely keep her eyes closed for a while.

The area that she was at was not as quiet as she had expected it to be. She could hear metal beds being rolled through halls outside her door. She heard a dripper in another room and wheelchairs being pushed along. The smells were different too. Everything smelled like it had been cleaned a dozen times by bleach and chlorine. It took a while for Sam to realize where she was.

Suddenly, Sam bolted up in her bed, her sheets gathering at her hips. There were white walls, an open bathroom with a sink and toilet, and a couple of visitor's chairs. Seated in one of the chairs was her father. He was sleeping, slumped over in his seat. He looked very tired with tousled hair and unkempt clothes. Sam smiled, and leaned over to make his hair neater. Then she stopped. Her left arm wasn't reacting. She looked, and then memory hit her.

She remembered the circle, her prayer, the gate, the white woman… everything. The cotton cloth that covered her stub seemed to be a gateway into the memories that she desperately needed to look over, but wanted just as badly not to. Sam lay back onto her bed and thought about it. She would have to recap events soon, lest she forget them or miss something important.

With a ruffling of hair and the shuffling of stiff clothing, Sam's father woke up. He sat up slowly and blinked blearily at Sam, who turned to him and smiled.

"Did you finally get your day off?" Sam asked.

"Yes. I've been given a couple days, actually. You wouldn't have been conscious enough to remember, though."

"I remember bits and pieces. Most are too fuzzy to be of any consequence, though."

There was some silence, and Sam frowned as she looked around again. Her father watched her, waiting.

"I'm in a hospital, aren't I?"

Sam's father nodded. Sam had terrible memories of hospitals. Once, when she was five years old, the girl had gotten lost inside a hospital in the dead of night. She wasn't found until morning. The only reason she had gone there in the first place was because her father had told her that the hospital was where her mother was. Needless to say, she never found her mother. Since then, Sam had stopped asking about her. She guessed that her father was nervous about her asking more. But she was determined not to. Her father would tell her when he wanted to, and that was the end of that story. Or so she would let him think.

"Hey, dad?"

Sam's father turned to her, curious. She just suddenly had the urge, so she leaned forward and hugged him with her right arm. She could tell he was uncomfortable, and she realized that hugging him was probably not such a good idea. Feeling like she had done something wrong, she separated from her father, whose face was slightly stiff.

"I'm sorry." the girl said quietly.

"It's fine." her father said gruffly. "I'll get used to it."

More quiet. The two shared a couple of silent moments. While one would look around the room, the other would stare out the window. The two's gazes ended up fixed on a tree outside. It was spring, and the buds of leaves and flowers were just coming in.

"You know, I don't think it was worth it. That alchemy stunt I pulled… The only thing that seems to have changed is that I've lost an arm…"

Sam's hand tightened on the sheets of her bed. Despite the deal, despite her pleadings… she had gained nothing. The bitter taste of failure filled her mouth, and anger began to boil up inside her. What a liar!

"Actually, Sam. I was wondering… What happened to your arm? How did you lose it?"

Sam turned to her father, saying plainly," The alchemy backfired… It was a rebound."

"But… why?"

"Well… As I hear it, I didn't have sufficient materials for the transmutation. My arm was taken as, uh… payment."

Sam had been staring at the ceiling while explaining, but now she looked down. Her father looked shocked. He had, no doubt, never heard of someone talk like this. So he was either aghast that she could take something so lightly, or he was wondering whether or not she was insane; perhaps both. But before he could continue, there was a knock on the door.

Into the room entered two people. One was a man with black hair and eyes and the other was a woman with blond hair and brown eyes. They both bore the blue military uniform. Sam looked at her father as he stood from his seat abruptly.

"Colonel Mustang!"

"At ease, Penber. I'm only here for a quick visit."

It took a moment for the fact that Mustang wasn't here for Sam's father to sink in.

"Visit?" Sam frowned. Why would he visit her?

"Yes. Somehow I was told to investigate your alchemy misfire even though I'm just visiting Central. So I'd like to ask you some things." Mustang said, a little disgruntled.

The girl that had come along with Mustang closed the door, and Sam could feel herself becoming guarded. She wondered what other people thought. But, for now, she would stay light-hearted and truthful. To other people, this was no doubt just an accident, with no deeper meaning beneath. She couldn't let anyone see how deep the trouble went.

"Well, you're lucky you came today. I wasn't fully awake until a few minutes ago."

Mustang paused before speaking. This girl didn't seem like Edward when he had performed human transmutation. He had lost an arm and had turned his house into a similarly bloody scene. The only difference in the price for human transmutation was that Ed had lost much more than just his arm. Because of that, he had been dispirited when Mustang had arrived at his house. But this girl wasn't dispirited at all. She seemed perfectly normal. She was in a completely opposite emotional state than Ed. Still, there was something beneath it; was this just an act?

"Sam, what was the purpose of your transmutation last night?"

"Private." Sam answered without hesitation. "But nothing harmful to anyone but myself, I assure you." She glanced at her father. "At least, it wasn't meant to be."

Mustang read the glance as a silent apology and not a look of meaning.

"As a State Alchemist, I need to know." Mustang pressed with a commanding voice. "Were you trying to perform human transmutation?"

The room was silent for a while. Sam was frowning at Mustang's intense gaze. Her father was surprised, aghast. His daughter, perform such a thing? Then he looked at his daughter, his gaze also questioning her. Sam glanced at her father, and anger bubbled up again. That look he was giving her either meant that he wondered if she thought her mother was dead, or that her mother was dead and he hadn't told her. By his silence over the years, she'd bet on the latter.

At least she could accomplish something with her answer, she reasoned. With a sigh, Sam began to answer while scratching the back of her head.

"No, Colonel Mustang, I did not try and perform human transmutation. I may not know much of my mother, but I don't know that she's dead. I've no one else that I would try it for."

"Are you telling me the truth?" Mustang asked.

"Do you doubt my intentions?"

"Human transmutation is a serious taboo. I wouldn't doubt that you would lie to me in order to avoid any consequences." Mustang countered.

"Avoid consequences?" Sam's eyes narrowed and Mustang brought himself up quickly, realizing his mistake. "Let me lay this out for you. I had this wild idea and created a circle for it. Upon the circle's reaction, I lost my arm and more than I care to mention. It's a miracle I didn't bleed to death that night. Putting that aside, what I asked for wasn't even given to me. No offense to your logic, but at this point, it's pretty useless to try avoiding consequences."

Sam's angry gaze drilled into Mustang. She had to give him credit. Sam rarely got angry, but when she did, many people were unnerved or downright frightened to be in the same room. Mustang barely flinched.

"I didn't use human transmutation." Sam said, her voice considerably softer. "I still wouldn't recommend anybody trying to copy me, though."

"I see. And you still don't want to tell me what it is you _were_ doing?"

"Maybe later." the girl said with a smirk.

"Then my job here is done."

Mustang turned and walked through the door that his assistant had opened. She walked through after him, and then closed it.

The two strode down the hall. Hawkeye looked at Mustang with a small smile. She could tell from the look on his face. He was still a little unnerved by that girl's outburst. Hawkeye didn't blame him; there was something strange about that girl. It was subtle, but that girl seemed unnatural in some way.

Still, it was amusing to see the Colonel like this. Usually, only she, Hawkeye, could back-talk Mustang successfully. Unfortunately, in this case, the girl's temper rose because of Mustang's tactlessness. It was unsurprising.

"She's lying." said Mustang as he walked across the hospital lobby to the door.

"Lying, sir? Or not saying everything?"

"Perhaps both."

"Either way, it's not your problem, Colonel. There was no evidence of a transmutation in that house that was connected to the loss of her arm."

"I think I'll take another look."

"With all due respect, sir, you're wasting time. The Fullmetal Alchemist is supposed to arrive today, sir."

"He can wait."

Hawkeye sighed as they went down the hospital's front steps and got into Mustang's car. It was just like Mustang to inconvenience someone else when he was focused on something. Which brought up a question.

"Sir, if I may ask, why are you so intent on proving that girl performed human transmutation?"

"Because there's something wrong."

Hawkeye frowned. There was something wrong? She waited for her superior to explain.

"When alchemists performed human transmutation, it has been reported there was often either nothing left, or a failed transmutation mimicking our physical form." Riza remembered the non-human thing that she and Mustang had found on the Elric's floor. "With that girl's transmutation, there was neither. There was evidence of her arm vanishing, of her researching for a specific circle, and there was no final product of her transmutation. I've seen no other alchemy with as severe repercussions as human transmutation, but she wasn't trying to bring anyone back."

Riza stared at Mustang, astonished by what he was suggesting. The Colonel waited for a moment, prompting her to finish.

"So then… what _was_ she trying to do?"

"Exactly. And did she succeed?"

**Shieb: Here I must clarify something. I'm trying to bend sentences a little so that the timeline in mind can still be conceivable, so bear with me. The idea is that Sam lost her arm a couple of years after the Elrics, but gets involved in the larger storyline quicker than the Elrics did. Mustang is not stationed at Central yet, but he got caught up in the investigation about Sam because the Fuhrer said so. If there's something you think is wrong with this, or if you have a way to correct what's wrong, I would more than appreciate the suggestion.**


	4. I Grow, Yet I Fall

~03~

Due to her loss of blood and the recuperation from losing her arm, Sam stayed in the hospital for many days. She had tried to go home, but her father had refused, along with the doctors. Sam's father said she was not being a financial burden, and should take the luxury of not having to work while she was still young. Everyone said it would be good for her.

But, truly, it was much to the contrary. Sam's mind would suddenly not stop moving. She began to hate having nothing to do, and any books that the nurses and doctors found were finished and forgotten in a day. She tried constructing problems, but she had the answer before she finished laying out the guidelines. She tried reviewing all that she had recently read about the country's history, wars, and feats. Nothing seemed to satisfy her. Her father brought books after hearing her plea, but those too were finished in no time.

It had almost been a week before Sam realized that perhaps mental exhaustion wasn't what she was after- or possible. After examining the room, Sam realized that the emptiest space was the ceiling. Well, perhaps she could do something about that. Because nobody would give her chalk, Sam used a stolen pencil to etch a transmutation circle above her bed. Before anyone could realize what she was doing, the girl transmuted a bar on the ceiling, a little ways from the end of her bed.

For the next few days of her restriction, Sam preoccupied herself when she got restless by working out. At first, she did very little. But as she learned to lose herself in the movements, she ended up doing more and more. Her doctor was unhappy with her, and it was not uncommon that a nurse would enter the room and scold her because her physical exhaustion had left her unable to remove herself from the bar, or her movements had made her stump bleed again. However, sympathizing with her, they took her quickly growing habit in good humor.

Sam even learned to think while she was exercising. As she got used to the routine movements, she could allow her mind to wander. It was in one of these sessions that her mind alighted upon the conversation she had with Mustang. After a moment, she began to understand why he had questioned her about human transmutation. She believed there was another state alchemist under his charge, called the Fullmetal Alchemist. Sam didn't know much about him, but she had heard rumors that he was once involved in human transmutation.

Sam relaxed for a moment, feeling the blood rush to her head and her hanging arm as she paused in her line of crunches. She had heard of automail, the mechanical replacements for appendages. The girl wondered if she should get some. After a moment of looking at her arm, she decided that her head was filled with enough blood and began doing crunches again. No, she wouldn't need an automail arm. In her life, she could perform just fine with one.

After five days of mind-numbing stillness, Sam had exhausted all that she knew. All but one subject, that was. She had avoided it for days, but now had come the time. With the subject of the transmutation on her mind, Sam didn't even find herself wanting to do some crunches or pull-ups. In fact, she was, perhaps, more still than she had ever been that week. She just lay in her bed, eyes closed and breathing steady. Slowly, Sam eased her tension and called upon the memory of her failed transmutation.

"_I am God. Or perhaps Truth. Or perhaps One. Or perhaps All." _The voice came drifting back to her, contemplating on its many names. _"And also, I am You."_

_With a flash, the picture was suddenly very clear. Sam had been standing in an endless expanse of white. There were no walls, nor any features of any kind in any direction. After gaping at the nothingness, Sam turned suddenly as a voice called out to her._

"_Hey! I see you made it."_

_The source of the voice was a man… no, a woman? But she had few features. She was completely white, and had nothing on her face, except for a mouth. Something that was hazy black outlined her, becoming the only thing that made her distinguishable from the surroundings._

"_Made it? Where… exactly have I made it to?"_

"_Where? I suppose you'll come to know it as the Gate, although that's technically wrong."_

"_Ok…" None of this made sense to her. "And… who're you?"_

"_So many people have been asking that lately!" the woman smiled cheerily. "I am God. Or perhaps Truth. Or perhaps One. Or perhaps All. And also, I am You."_

_A white finger pointed at Sam, unnerving her. This wasn't making any sense. Although the theory of God was technically possible, Sam had never bothered to believe in such a being. Why should she, when she depended on herself to do what she needed done? And what was it doing here?_

"_And now, your request for information will be granted."_

_Sam stopped for a moment. It worked? She'd be given the information?_

"_Really?" the girl asked excitedly. But her excitement stopped when the being laughed. What was so funny? The loud creaks of an old door being swung open sounded in the featureless landscape, and Sam turned around slowly to see stone double doors swinging open to reveal a deep blackness. Fear replaced hope almost immediately. She was on edge, and the strange black tendrils that appeared from the darkness only served to make Sam turn and bolt. It was no use, though. They caught her, wrapped around her, and began dragging her body back, into the door._

"_What's wrong? This is what you asked for." laughed the woman, grinning with those ridiculous tombstone teeth._

_Fear prevented Sam from keeping her voice at a normal level, and so she shouted out as the doors began creaking shut: "Somehow I doubt it!"_

_Through the door, there was no more ground for her to step on, and so her body was directed forwards, away from the door by the tendrils. All at once, Sam began seeing things. No, not just some things. She knew that if she kept along like this she would see and know _everything_. As the information was shoved into her head, Sam quickly felt that it was going to explode. Her mind wasn't meant to handle this much information, especially all at once. Perhaps that would be her end. Was it possible that she would die because of one small miscalculation?_

_Then something grabbed Sam's attention. A figure just as white and featureless as the being from the other room was forming before Sam- ahead of her, in fact. Its flowing hair moved in a wind Sam could only figure was caused by the speed at which they were moving. This had to be it. The thing Sam had been looking forward to the most, the golden egg which would make this all worth it. Sam reached out her hand, hope daring to press so hard on her chest that it felt it might burst open._

"_Mother."_

_Barely a moment after Sam had spoken and the two's hands reached towards each other than there was a sudden jerk from the tendrils that pulled Sam away. Faster than they had traveled forward, Sam was being pulled back. Before she knew it, Sam was outside the Gate again, her hand still outstretched. It took her a moment to realize where she was._

_Sam glanced around frantically. Finding the woman who claimed to be God, she took a step forwards. This was unfair. She said she would be given what she wanted!_

"_Wait! Take me back! Just a little further!"_

"_I'm afraid I can't do that. The toll you offered will only show you that much of Truth."_

"_Toll?"_

_Sam had a sudden plunging feeling in her stomach. And then she noticed a peculiar sensation on her left arm. Slowly, she turned to see what it was, and her eyes widened in shock as she noticed her left arm falling apart. But there was no blood, and the pieces just disappeared in air. How could this be?_

"_Yes, toll. With all the idiots in your world performing human transmutation, I figured you'd at least know that to open the Gate means to pay a toll. Now go back, alchemist. Go back home." she snickered, turning while Sam's arm materialized on what used to be the woman's white one._

"_No… No, I won't leave! Not yet!" Anger drove Sam into action. She would not just stand here and lose like this. Not after the effort and not after the determination she had put into it. The being turned to regard Sam._

"_Oh, right. You expect me to give you Ultimate Truth, right? Or what you call Ultimate Knowledge? Well, alright. I can do it. If you want to die, that is."_

_That brought Sam up short. She couldn't gain the information and just die. Who would explain it to her father? How would she find her mother and meet her face-to-face? And wouldn't it be pointless for Sam to have the information and do nothing with it? The woman, seeing Sam's indecision, chuckled. It sent a shiver down the girl's spine._

"_Alright. I'll give you what you want. But it'll come at a heavy price."_

"_You're not going to kill me!" Sam took a step back._

"_No, I'm not going to kill you. Not yet, anyways." chuckled the woman, flexing Sam's arm. "Instead, my toll for this will be… half."_

_Sam leaned further away from the being, her eyes wide in surprise. The woman's face was just a couple of centimeters from her own, her wide grin frighteningly large on such a featureless face._

"_A-alright. I'll take it."_

"_Heh. You'll receive it."_


	5. As Normal As Ever

~04~

Another day and Sam was discharged from the hospital. Her father, not knowing about Sam's habits of constantly working herself physically in the hospital, asked for a wheelchair for Sam. He was laughed at both by his daughter, and by the doctors and nurses. Sam ended up walking out of the hospital on her own. Her father was carrying all of the books that he had brought over earlier, since he thought she was still a little weak.

Returning home was a great relief to Sam. The first thing she did upon entering her house was take a big breath. She felt she needed to get the scent of chloride and cleaner out of her. Of course, standing there for a couple of minutes caused her father, who was right behind her, to protest her blocking the doorway.

The second thing Sam felt she wanted to do was return to her old routines. Both she and her father wanted things to return to some semblance of what they were. That meant Sam avoided cooking, avoided chores, read books, and was often ornery just to tease her father into an argument. Even though Sam's arm was gone, the two never talked about what had happened. Sam knew her father wanted to pretend it had never happened, just like when Sam's mother had disappeared.

However, the pretending didn't last long. Sam's father seemed content as things were, although he would squirm a little when Sam gave him a hug. But Sam was not happy at all. She was the one who had lost an arm, and the reality was constantly being shoved into her face. She needed to go into the office area in order to get books to read at first because her father wouldn't let her leave the house. But she kept avoiding the room, on account of a strange, nervous feeling she got whenever she approached it. It was like she was afraid the Gate would just open up again if she got too close to the circle she had buried into the wooden floor. What an absurd thing to think about.

The actual loss of Sam's arm didn't bother her very much, except for the fact that she had a lack of mobility. Her body hadn't quite adjusted to the lack of weight on one side yet, and while her body was adjusting, she'd trip, stumble, and fall much more than she normally would. This would bring about another tell tale sign that all was not as it had been, since her father would always rush to her side, looking frightened. Upon the first time Sam did this, resulting in her father rushing to her aid, it occurred to the girl that, to him, she must seem very fragile now that she had lost an arm to alchemy. The thought brought up that familiar anger within her, but she pushed it down. She couldn't blame her father.

It took a while, but Sam finally summoned the courage to go to the study. She had since been allowed to go to the library and visit with friends she still had, so she had avoided the place all the more. But a thought had occurred to her. If someone had found out she had merely buried the circle, they could call it up once more and use it as they liked. Sam didn't know if anybody would want to use the circle she had created for any malicious deeds, but she did know that, even though she did not perform human transmutation, she didn't want anybody to follow in her footsteps.

Sam was innocently sitting cross-legged in the study, drawing an alchemy circle on the ground when she heard a knock at the front door. Her father was home at the time, and she heard his footsteps approaching the door. Knowing that she didn't have to take care of the guest, Sam put a hand on the circle. The usual light and sudden deafening of sounds was followed by quick footsteps. Sam's father rounded the corner of the study door just as the alchemic circle from nights ago surfaced and disappeared, filling the air with chalk dust. Sam coughed while her father began lecturing her.

"What are you doing in here? And much less performing alchemy!"

"Alchemy isn't a taboo, father. Besides, I was just erasing something." Sam tried to speak calmly as she got up and crossed to the desk.

"But, you could've-"

"Father!" She felt her temper snap a bit. "I know better than to do something _that_ stupid again! I can take care of myself!"

Her father was heedless of Sam's temper and tried to stress the fact that alchemy was dangerous when Sam found the piece of paper she had been searching for. She drew another circle on it, then carried it to the garbage in the room and burned it with a flash of alchemic light. She had made her point. Sam was going to perform alchemy whether her father wanted her to or not.

"Please, don't stop fighting on account that I'm here." Sarcastically said what Sam assumed was the guest.

"What, did you assume we'd stop being father and daughter just because you came here?"

"I did assume you could put it aside while I'm on business, at least."

"Well, that rings a familiar bell. Wait a minute."

Sam had been turned towards the table that was covered in papers and books to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, but now she turned to check and see why that voice seemed so familiar. In the doorway to the study was Colonel Mustang.

"Hey, what're _you_ doing here?"

"I've been here the entire time!"

"Nice to see you're back on your high horse!" giggled Sam. After all, they hadn't parted on the best of terms. That is to say, Mustang had forgotten the definition of the word 'tact'. "Anyways, so what's your business?"

Even though Sam kept talking as if she was as happy as ever, she had to admit that she was miffed Mustang hadn't reacted. She sorely felt like annoying him. However, the fact that she had just remembered he was a State Alchemist began to draw her back to an acceptable line. She would have to make do with simple teasing for now.

"This is the last investigation of this room."

"Well! Suppose I'd better leave and get out of your way, then!"

Sam didn't want to be involved in anything having to do with this room that was connected to the military. But just as she tried to slip her way through the door, Mustang's gloved hand reached out of his pocket and grabbed Sam's wrist.

_Immediately, Sam saw her gloved hand raised. She snapped, and fire leapt up before her, obliterating many people. Sam blinked, still able to hear the screams even when she could see her house before her again._

'_Wait, that's not me! What the hell?' _Sam thought.

"Oh, no you don't!" Mustang was saying. "We've had to piece together everything without you the first time we came here to investigate. But now we have the honor of having you around. So we have some questions for you."

Sam had to cover up her surprise quickly. There was no way she could explain what just happened, and there was no way she was going to focus on it now and risk having Mustang find out.

"Great. Just what I was hoping for. Can you let go now?"

When Mustang let go and put his hand back in his pocket, Sam felt some tension ease inside of her. The feeling puzzled her, but she was quickly escorted to the living/dining room in order to be questioned.

All of the questions pretty much seemed the same to Sam. They all seemed to involve human transmutation- though they did very well at rephrasing the questions to make them sound different- or the specific circle that Sam drew. Her outright refusal to reproduce the circle seemed to anger the military representative that was assigned to question her. She merely stared calmly at him as he fumed about her… well, she wasn't listening too closely, but the word was something akin to 'insubordination'. Sam thought about pretending to fall asleep to further piss him off, but found it wouldn't be worth all the trouble, especially with Mustang checking in every now and again.

Sam's attention started to fade after a while, and she gave absent answers while she began observing the rest of the soldiers that had come with Mustang. The soldiers near the study seemed to be searching for something in particular. And the questions that this particular man was asking… Something began to trouble Sam. This was all too unusual for the military.

Sam decided to take advantage of the soldier man's spouting as he realized that she had stopped paying attention. She turned to him and smiled. Nearby, she could hear her father talking to Mustang. Apparently, he was about to cook dinner and wondered if the rest of the troops would be interested in something to eat. Of course, Mustang refused and Sam's father meandered over to the kitchen while Sam began to find her own answers.

"Ok, ok, my turn!"

"What?" She seemed to have taken him off guard.

"You asked your questions, now I'll ask mine. I'm not gonna be a hypocrite, so you can choose to not answer any of them. Firstly, why are you so interested in this?"

"What's it matter, kid?"

"When you ask me questions, you seem to think you already know the answer, which means you're trying to get me to say something. Plus there's the fact that you've made more than one investigation into this simple mistake in alchemy. Somebody's looking for something, and considering I'm already involved, I'd like to know what."

With a few ears and eyes pointed their direction, the man actually got angry. Sam knew from experience that she was either dead wrong or dead right. His response would determine her conclusion.

"Stupid little girl. Nobody's looking for anything in particular. And even if we were searching for something, it's not like I'd tell a little girl like you."

Sam's eyes narrowed at his second sentence.

"Red." she mumbled, trying to find more pieces to the puzzle. Perhaps some were already at her disposal.

Sam's simple mumble seemed to capture the attention of her father, and he strode over to the kitchen table and stood near Sam with his burgers on the hot pan he was holding. He flipped them while examining the military man before him.

"Red? What nonsense is this?" Sams' apparent incoherence seemed to make the man very angry.

"Red," said Sam's father, in place of her silence. "Means you're lying. It might not have been all of it, but something you said last time was a complete lie. Am I correct?"

Sam nodded, her eyes transfixed on the man sitting across from her.

"Yeah, it was a dark red. The second sentence was a flat out lie."

Half of the people paying attention didn't know whether to be curious about what their superior lied about or whether they should be backing away slowly from the crazy girl sitting across from him. Still, the conflict between the two held them there, making some pause in their work. Hawkeye, who was standing between the hallway that the study was in and the door, merely sighed.

Now, one wasn't to say that Mustang wasn't interested in what was happening in the dining room. However, his job wasn't to unveil conspiracies in the military, much as he wanted to, and so decided to come to his superior's aid. In all truth, he hated the man. He was a greedy lapdog to the higher command of the military, and should have been demoted back to a regular conscript long ago. However, the child, Sam, was starting to get a little too cocky, and he couldn't have that either.

Sam's focus was so intense upon the blustering military man before her that she didn't notice Mustang's hand reaching out to grab her until it was inches away. By which time, a sudden fright overtook her and she maneuvered herself so that Mustang missed her shoulder and Sam ended up falling out of the chair. A quick step from her father prevented him from dropping the hamburgers on Sam.

It took a moment for Sam to realize just what she had done and why. She had feared that she would have had another… flash, or whatever it was. Therefore, she had…

Sam pouted at Mustang.

"You ruined the tension."

"You're the one who fell down."

"Yeah, you're right." Sam admitted she did at least that much, even though that wasn't what had, per say, broken the tension. "Maybe I just dislike being touched by those particular gloves, I dunno…"

She had meant to think quietly to herself, but the small reactions from Mustang, Hawkeye, and the man who had been questioning Sam told her she had done otherwise. This resulted in a small "Oops" from her. Sam really needed to learn how to think instead of speak; especially now, when her thoughts seemed to travel almost too fast for her to keep up. Yet another ridiculous thing to ponder.

With a small sigh and little hope of either of her strange actions today going unnoticed, Sam got up off the floor and brushed herself off.

"So, are we done yet?"

The military man who was in charge rose from the table and decided the investigation was done. He huffed about not being convinced that she hadn't caused a danger to other people or broken a law. Sam suspected he might try and cause grief to her and her father because of how easily she was able to read him. It wasn't her fault he was too obvious.

As the group departed, various farewells were made between Sam's father and the soldiers. Many were friends from work, she suspected. However, seeing as how she didn't know any of them, Sam was content to sit at the dining table and eat her hamburger.

"I may be visiting you again." Sam heard Mustang say. She turned in her seat, frowning.

"Please don't come again soon."

"Why should I listen to a little kid who can't perform alchemy right?"

"Because you care about my mental health." Sam said sarcastically and sweetly. "If it degrades too much, I can't eventually tell you what happened. And your presence certainly won't help me. You don't seem like the type that brings fruit baskets every day or something."

Actually, the thought gave Sam chills. Mustang being anything but pompous and self-assured was just weird. The Colonel played off his interest, saying it had gone away. Besides, this was the last investigation. Even if he wanted to, he no longer had any jurisdiction to look into the strange, non-human transmutation related happenings of two weeks ago. Sam stopped paying attention half way through and took another bite of her hamburger, affectively annoying Mustang. Hawkeye had to remind her superior that he had places to go and papers to sign, which seemed to tame the beast and shuffle him outside.

Sam's father tried to talk to her about what had happened. Why had she known those things? And why had she reacted the way she had about Mustang's gloves? And where did that color thing come from, anyway? Sam merely asked him if he didn't think it obvious and refused to say anything else about it. She was truly confused about what had happened, and she wondered what would happen from now on. Had she really been granted her wish- but with a catch? Or was she just grabbing at straws? It didn't matter either way. She didn't know, and her father didn't need to. Especially if he just wanted to pretend nothing had changed.

**Shieb: Again, I question the likelihood of this. What did you believe, and what did you have trouble following?**


	6. What Sam Asked For

~05~

"Ok, let's test it."

As an alchemist, Sam considered herself a scientist. And any scientist knew they couldn't come to any conclusions without data. So now, Sam was out in the middle of a crowd. She was trying to recreate what had happened at her house, when she had experienced that flash. Another thing she needed to do was find a name for that phenomenon. But for now, she was walking through the crowd of people who were trying to get a jump on their morning routine. It wasn't working very well, as their rush only served to clog up the sidewalks. However, this clogging of the streets was serving Sam well. She wanted to brush against people and see if she got a reaction.

The morning didn't go well for Sam. She brushed against person after person. But there was no reaction. Nothing. A few random facts that she hadn't known popped into her brain without explanation from time to time, but there was no sudden, realistic vision that interrupted her thinking. The girl was severely disappointed.

On the flip side, through repeating this procedure, Sam realized that by touching things, however lightly, she could gain information about them. The knowledge came very subtly, as if she had already known it and was just now thinking about it. But when Sam looked back, she could easily realize that she had never had those particular facts stored away before. This intrigued her, and excited her. Grudgingly, Sam began to admit that Truth had not, in fact, lied to her.

Still, by noon she had had no visions, and there was no sign she had even come close to experiencing another one. At least, by now, the sun had finally come out. Growing hungry and warm, Sam removed her coat and wandered off to her favorite restaurant in the city. Glad that her father knew little of where she wandered in town, and therefore knowing that he would not interrupt her meal with a lecture, Sam settled into a chair on a table outside the restaurant and waved down a waiter.

As the sunlight bounced off her table and headed straight for Sam's eyes, she began to have a growing headache. She realized that ever since she had removed her coat, the amount of information she had been able to obtain when brushing against people was greater and generally clearer. She wondered if how much information she could get depended directly on how much space there was between her skin and the object in question.

Sam tapped her fingers on the table for a moment. It took her a moment to realize that she was getting no feed of information from the table. She laid her hand flat on the surface and waited. Nothing. Perhaps it did not work on inanimate objects?

The waiter came by with her soup, and Sam happily paid with a tip. Placing her hand on the bowl while another grasped a spoon, she remembered that this bowl had been dropped once by a rather fat-fingered lady, thus the crack that her fingers were laying across.

Wait. How did she remember that? She hadn't _remembered_ it, she realized with a small jolt. She had just gained the information right at that moment. While Sam continued to eat her soup, she concluded that whatever she could do did, in fact, extend to inanimate objects. So perhaps whether or not she could gather information was dependent on what type of memory, instead of where she got it from.

"Sam? Is that you?"

Sam looked up from her bowl, curious. Walking towards her was Maes Hughes. The girl, still interested in furthering her experiment, thought for a few moments. She knew he had a bad past, but she wondered if there would be a reaction.

"Yeah! It's me. I haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey! That's my line! Last time I saw you, you were bleeding all over your dad's walls." There was a tinge of soberness in the light-hearted feeling of Hughes' voice.

"I think Dad's still angry about that. And Lord forbid I mention that night to him." Sam said a little sourly.

"You gotta understand. That's not a memory he would want to relive in a hurry." Hughes said, sitting down across from Sam.

"I know. I just also know that he hasn't forgotten and that he's relived it before. He just seems afraid to relive it with me around." she shrugged. "It's the same with my mother's memory, although I have an even smaller idea as to why he won't mention her."

Hughes smiled sadly. "I'm sure he has his reasons."

There was a spark of anger in Sam. That's what everyone said, but she was never going to be given the answers. No one intended to hurry her father along. Anyways, you can't hurry someone who's not moving in the first place. Hughes was a family friend and everything, but the same old problems brought the same anger, no matter who it was that brought up the subject. Sam sighed in frustration and shook her head, denying herself the urge to argue about it.

"So what're you doing around here anyways? Don't you have work?"

"Aren't you supposed to be staying home like a good little girl?" Hughes shot back, looking guilty.

"Wow. I never thought you the type to play hooky." Sam frowned. If Dad knew she was this far away from the house, she'd get a lecture when she got back home. "Alright. I won't tell anyone you skipped if you don't tell anyone how far away from home I am."

"Deal." Hughes smiled, offering his hand. Perfect. Sam extended her own and they shook. Or, he shook and Sam cringed.

_The girl suddenly saw herself running between houses made of what looked like dried mud in a desert town. She had a gun raised, and she was about to pull the trigger on a small, dark-skinned and fair-haired child in front of her. Her stomach twisted as she noticed a sick feeling that had been with her for a while now._

And then Sam was back at the restaurant with Hughes across from her, looking concerned.

"Hey, are you alright? You don't look too good all of a sudden. Like you've seen a ghost and you're about to be sick."

She _felt_ like she was going to be sick. The feeling from the vision, or whatever it was, had lingered. Sam put her hand up to her mouth and closed her eyes, unhappy, for once, that she had gotten results. The girl took a couple of deep breaths, nodding or shaking her head to Hughes' streaming questions.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked for the zillionth time. Sam put her hand down from her mouth and glared at him.

"I'm fine." Sam's voice sounded a little quiet, even to herself.

Hughes wasn't convinced, but Sam insisted that she was fine. When she grew a little less pale, Hughes finally let her leave the restaurant, promising again that he wouldn't tell her father about this. He still seemed concerned, but Sam told him time and time again that she was fine. She knew what it was, and it wasn't something he should worry about; which, of course, made him worry all the more. Upon reflection, Sam concluded that she sucked at reassuring people.

That night, Sam cooked dinner. She wrapped her father's portion up again and left it on the table with a small note saying she had gone to bed. But Sam was far from asleep. She lay in her bed, mulling over the day's events, both small and large. By going through and comparing some of the data she had collected, Sam came to several conclusions.

Firstly, this new ability of hers was more than likely from Truth. It was limited, but it could extract all of the information in the world. Second, it worked on both animate and inanimate objects; both living and not. Thirdly, the ability to gain this information from objects was activated by touching something; or, more precisely, proximity. Lastly, Sam had found that the visions she had and how clear they were seemed to be based on the emotions attached to that memory or fact. If the memory or fact was something mortifying and life changing- like the Ishbalan War, which Maes Hughes and Colonel Mustang had been involved in- it was more likely that Sam was to experience that memory with greater clarity. However, if the fact was small and benign, like who had picked up a particular cup, the information either wasn't gathered or was barely recognized by Sam's brain.

The girl fell asleep, content. She could gather any information she wanted, if she knew where to get it. Now she could know anything she wished, even what happened to her mother. The thought was exhilarating, and Sam dreamed of finally meeting her mother after tracking her down, and experiencing her warm hug.

**Shieb: If you dislike short chapters, please forgive me. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank those of you who have read these, even if you haven't reviewed, and I'd also like to remind you that any changes in my activities or in stories will be on my profile under 'Recent Activity'.**


	7. Mom's Watch

~06~

Sam hurried busily about the house, doing things to clean up here and there but mainly becoming concerned with the empty duffle bag on her bed. She still had chores and there were some things about her house that she wanted to get done before she left, but as she ran through the things she had to do, she became positive that it would take her at least three hours past her train ticket's time to do all of them- and that was without packing.

Her father wasn't home and she didn't expect him to be home for a while. He didn't expect it either, since his watch was supposed to last through the night. Likely, he was sleeping at the office right now to try and make up for the sleep he knew he would lose. Sam didn't know why he insisted on working such long hours. Well, at least he had become more comfortable with leaving Sam alone at the house.

After finishing the dishes, which was the last of her basic chores, Sam grabbed a towel to dry her hands. Then she focused on her left hand, making sure to get the water out of every nook and cranny so the shiny metal didn't rust and break on her.

A month after she got out of the hospital, Sam decided to get automail. The engineer suggested that the rehabilitation would take at least three years, and he wasn't even sure Sam would be able to get the arm, since the flesh had begun to heal itself and he was unsure if he could get to the nerves he needed in order to connect the metal arm and make it functional. Sam would have none of it. She wanted to be able to function in one year, and she told the engineer to try his hardest to hook up the hardware. Needless to say, the stress, the procedure, and the rapid recovery had her coughing up blood. Sam thought it was worth it. Her father seemed to have become more confident in her now that she had two arms to work with, and it was not so awkward to do things around the house. Yes, Sam definitely thought she understood why people chose this path.

Unable to persuade herself that organizing the office and then washing the floor would not take too long, Sam returned to her room and gazed upon the empty duffle bag. With a shake of her head and a sigh, she began moving. She grabbed her favorite and most sturdy clothing and folded it into the duffle bag. Then she grabbed small necessities like the bolts and oils needed to take care of her arm, courtesy of her mechanic, Albert. The thin, shy, and hermit-like boy had hurriedly handed her these things when she had told him about her plans to leave. She was glad she could call him any time her arm broke down.

The duffle bag was full to almost bursting and Sam took a step back to look over her room. Was there anything else she needed to bring? Her eyes immediately fell upon the small package wrapped in brown paper that rested on her bedside table. She considered it, looking at the note tied at its top that read 'I don't know if I'll get home in time to give this to you myself. If not, open it.' Sam took a step towards the box, and then she strode over to the bedside table and picked it up. Hesitantly, she put her fingers on the string that would unwrap the entire thing if pulled.

There was a knock on the door. Sam sighed, wondering why everybody seemed to have such odd timing when it came to her. She put the box back down when another knock rang through the small house.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Sam said as a third series of knocks sounded.

Finally, after becoming quite impatient at the person who incessantly knocked on her door, Sam reached the entrance to her house and quickly opened it. She blinked for a second, wondering if someone had knocked and then ran. Then, at a sound, Sam looked down.

A little girl of about 12 stood in front of Sam. She had braided ponytails, a red short skirt and T-shirt, and she held a backpack with both of her hands politely in front. Sam blinked at her, perplexed as to why she'd come here. She wasn't a newspaper reporter- that was for certain. And Sam had had quite enough of them. Maybe she was lost.

"Um… excuse me… are you… um… Sam? Sam Penber?"

Sam blinked, surprised. "Uh, yeah, I'm Sam. Who're you?"

"I'm Klara. And, um, I have a… a request."

Sam's eyebrows had no doubt climbed her forehead. "Uh-huh… And what is it?"

"I… I want you to bring my mother and father back!" the girl said in a rush, bowing suddenly.

Sam was very quiet. Bring back her parents? From where? Unfortunately, the bare skin she had exposed allowed her to pick up a bit of a hint towards what the girl was requesting, but… Well, it simply couldn't be. If she was asking _that_, it was impossible!

"Bring back your parents?" Sam saw the girl nod her head furiously from her bow, her pig tails jumping around a bit. "From… where?"

The girl's hands curled into fists and Sam saw her entire body tense up. She was likely trying not to cry. Then Sam heard a sharp intake of breath and Klara stood up, looking tearfully at Sam.

"They're dead! My parents are dead!"

Sam sighed and was quiet for a moment. This was going to be difficult. Poor kid. Geez, what was she saying? Sam had it just as bad as this kid, if not worse! But, still… Sam stepped aside and motioned towards the inside of her house.

"Come in." Sam said quietly.

Klara trudged inside, still trying to hold back tears. Sam closed the door and escorted her guest to the kitchen table, where she offered her a chair. The girl sat and let her backpack sit on the floor. Sam then made her way to the other side of her table, sitting in what was customarily her father's chair.

"Klara… I'm really sorry that your parents passed away. Truly, I feel your loss. I know what it's like." _Technically, anyways._ "But people can't be brought back from the dead."

"You're lying!" Klara burst out immediately, her voice rising to a shriek. "Everybody says that nobody can be brought back, but then why do they try it? You tried it! _He_ tried it!"

"I did not."

"Yes you-"

"I did not!" Sam's suddenly raised voice and thinned lips silenced Klara immediately. Sam took a breath to calm herself, and then continued more quietly. "I didn't try to bring someone back from the dead. I don't even know if my mother is dead or just missing, and she's the only person I would consider it for. I asked for something else."

"But you still…"

Sam saw where Klara's gaze went and realized that she was still wearing short sleeves. Her metal arm was glinting in the sunlight. Sam looked at it, and then put her flesh hand on it. It held all the memories of the pain she had acquired obtaining this arm. But thanks to the fact that she had already re-experienced these memories once, they were now dull and no longer dug into her brain like a knife when she touched it.

"Yes, I lost an arm. I asked for something that did not abide by the law of equivalent exchange. Therefore, there was a rebound and… well, the result is obvious."

"Well… If _you_ can't, then… Then let me follow you and help me find out how to do it myself!"

Sam was quiet for yet another moment. What an idiot child! Why would she still pursue this, knowing the repercussions! She would likely kill herself!

"I won't." was Sam's flat out refusal.

"I'll follow you even if you don't want me to!"

"You can't."

"Yes I can!" Klara muttered defiantly.

"No, actually, you can't. I don't know how much money you have with you, but I doubt it's enough to buy a train ticket. I'm leaving on a train today, it's already been arranged."

Klara was starting to look angry as well as stubborn.

"Where are you going?"

"Like I'd tell you."

Now she was starting to pout. What a little baby! Sam couldn't have been that pathetic, she was sure.

"Look," Sam said, "give it up. I know you want to see your parents. Trust me, I do. But if you pursue this, you could get yourself and a whole lot of other people killed. And then there's the likelihood that your parents won't even come back. Trust me, it's not worth it."

"I don't care." Klara whispered, her arms crossed and her gaze focused on her little shoes.

"I see I can't convince you." Sam admitted. "Well. Then the door is over there. You can let yourself out."

Sam got up from the table after motioning towards the door and headed to her room. She picked up a couple of things she had remembered she wanted to take with her, packed them, and then zipped shut the bag. Her gaze again turned towards the package her father had left for her. She picked it up and stubbornly placed it on top of her pack. She would wait until she was on the train to open it up. The least she could do is give her father the benefit of the doubt and wait for him to come home.

Sam spent maybe half an hour checking, double-checking, and triple-checking that she had everything she needed, had left everything she didn't, and considered what other chores she could do before she left home. It was a good thing, too. She had almost forgotten her money bag.

Finally, Sam decided she would tidy up the office as much as she could. It would be the last thing she could conceivably do here before she had to leave. She walked out of her room, down the hall, and into the kitchen, where she stopped. Klara was still sitting at the table, stubbornly staring at her shoes.

"What are you still doing here?" Sam asked. Klara offered no answer. She didn't even move. "Do I need to escort you to the door, kid?"

Sam waited, but Klara still gave no response. Annoyed that this girl could possibly be more stubborn than Sam's own father, Sam walked up to Klara, grabbed her backpack and her arm, and began pulling the girl to the door. Klara's reaction was immediate.

"No! I won't! I won't! I can't leave until they're back!" she began screaming.

Sam gritted her teeth against a rising headache. The girl was kicking and thrashing, making it difficult for Sam to keep hold of her. The little girl's backpack was light, but had something hard and box-shaped in it. Maybe she could knock the girl out with it.

Suddenly, over the noise of the two fighting girls, Klara's stomach grumbled. The two stopped immediately. Klara looked embarrassed and Sam stared, amazed, at the stomach, which growled again. Klara began fiddling with the bottom of her shirt.

"Can I, um… have something to eat?"

Sam glared.

"Fine." she said. "But as soon as you're done, you're leaving."

Klara ate a lot more than Sam thought she would. By the end of the meal, Sam could tell Klara was forcing herself to eat. Finally, Sam had to take the plate away from the girl, which made Klara begin to complain through a mouth full of food.

"Swallow your food before you talk. And anyways, you can stay a bit longer. At least until your food has settled a bit."

'_How has she convinced me to let her stay two hours longer than I originally intended?'_ Sam wondered silently.

"I'll be in the office!" Sam called after she had finished cleaning up the last of their dirty plates.

The office was, as usual, in shambles. Mustang had stayed true to his word and had not come back to investigate it. Sam was glad. A thorough look-through at half the papers would tip someone off that Sam had been doing research on a specific circle, although anyone who knew anything about alchemy would not find that particularly suspicious. Anyone who knew enough about human transmutation might find a few pieces of the circle that were familiar.

Ah, what was Sam thinking? She had never _done_ human transmutation, although the circle had certainly reacted as if she had. Sometimes she wished she had never gotten into alchemy, especially when everyone kept pointing the finger at her. Even a little girl, for crying out loud!

It took a while for Sam to put the different papers and books into their own piles, according to their subjects. She threw away most of her research notes. She could call it all up from her memory now, anyways. The piles were put in their appropriate books and folders. The books were all dusted off as much as she could and then placed on the shelves or set together on the now-clean table. It took an hour and a quarter, but Sam finally cleaned the majority of the office.

The girl looked at the trash bin. It was chalk full of her research papers and some papers she had just doodled on as a child. Paranoia grabbed hold of her, not for the first time, and she grabbed the trash bin. She walked outside and put it in the larger trash can that lined the outside of Central's houses. Still not satisfied, Sam used alchemy to set those few pieces of paper aflame. Finished covering up the evidence, so to speak, Sam walked back inside, feeling foolish. Honestly, who would want to know what she had done and how she had done it badly enough to search through her trash?

"Ok, kid. Your time's up." Sam said, walking towards Klara. Then she stopped. Klara's eyes were closed, her breathing was slow, and her head was down. Sam blinked. She hadn't thought the girl would fall asleep.

A glance at the clock and Sam knew she had to get going. She still had forty-five minutes until she needed to start running, but she didn't fancy the idea of getting a workout quite as intense as that. Sam headed to her room. She put on her coat, which was a dark piece that came down to her ankles and could tie around the waist. Carelessly, Sam removed the strap that would be used in order to tie the coat around her waist and threw it on the ground. She then reached into her coat pocket. Her hand touched a pair of purple gloves that reached up to her elbow.

Sam had been using gloves in order to stop having sudden flashes of memories that other people had from their emotional moments. It had proven quite effective, although sometimes the memory was too strong and leaked through. In which case, it was more annoying than a sudden burst because the memory would distract her longer than it would've if she had not been wearing gloves. Sam was glad that she had this ability, but she thought she had overstepped her boundaries when she had asked for 'Ultimate Truth'. Knowing everything was not as great as it seemed.

For now, Sam kept the gloves in her pocket. She grabbed her bag and the box her father had wrapped and headed out into the main room, where she set her stuff down next to the door. Then she turned to Klara. She couldn't wake the girl up. No, it wasn't that she couldn't. It would just be a stupid thing to do. After all, if Klara woke up, Sam would never be left alone.

After a few moment's thought, Sam decided to leave Klara here. But not like this. No, Sam knew what it was like to wake up after sleeping in a chair. Sam picked Klara up gently. She was careful not to wake the little girl up as she took her and her backpack to her room, where she put Klara down on her bed. She set the girl's bag on the ground and threw the blankets over Klara. As she tucked the girl in, Sam heard the little girl mumble in her sleep.

"Momma."

Sam paused. Then she patted the girl on her shoulder and walked to the girl, looking back only once to see Klara's sleeping figure.

"Sorry, kid. Really. It's just not possible."

She shut the door behind her and headed to the main room again. She was just swinging her duffle bag over her shoulder when she heard the door being opened. Suspicious, Sam watched the door quietly. Her father stepped out from behind its wooden surface, which brought an instant difference in Sam's stance. The way she almost always seemed to expect a fight had bothered him, so she had learned to pretend she didn't when he was around.

Sam's father caught sight of her and smiled, immediately coming up to her to hug her.

"I'm so glad I made it here in time. I took a little break from work so that I could get here to see you off. I'm glad I came, too. It seems you're leaving early."

"Yeah, I figured I'd better leave now or I'll have to run all the way down to the station!" Sam laughed.

"Alright. Well?"

"Well?" Sam was confused. What was he- "Oh! The box!"

"You didn't open it?"

"Nope, not yet."

"Good. Thanks for waiting. You should open it now."

Sam, thinking her father's up front-ness was strange, put down her pack so that she could handle the box with both hands. The wrapping was a plain brown and the string that kept it together almost looked like the stuff used for hay bails. Sam tugged on an end of the string and the whole thing came undone. The paper unfolded itself as if earnest for her to discover what was inside. The box was a plain white, consisting of only the bottom and the top. Sam pulled the top up and off the bottom piece, revealing a silver watch that was curled up on a bed of what seemed to be white stuffing.

Sam looked up at her father curiously. What was this? He seemed to think she should like it, although his expectation was mingled with a shyness that was uncharacteristic to him.

"It was your mother's." he said somewhat softly. "I figured I should at least leave you something of hers before you leave."

Sam looked back down at the box. She was suddenly holding it as if it was something that was to be treasured. After putting the bottom into the top of the box, she grabbed the watch. It was very shiny and the watch itself had no fancy markings on it. It was attached to a chain that was maybe a foot long and could easily attach to a belt loop. Its design reminded Sam of the watches that were given to State Alchemists, but there were obvious differences when she looked at it closely.

"This… was Mom's?" Sam wasn't sure if she could believe this was her mother's just yet. She had been given absolutely no proof that her mother existed for all this time. And suddenly, here was this watch in her hand that used to be owned by her mother.

"She gave it to me soon after she got it, so she didn't have it for long, but… It's about the only thing that she used to have that I thought might be useful to you."

Sam stared at the watch for a little longer. Then, realizing that time was becoming of the essence, she looked back up at her father and nodded a bit. She tried to speak, but found her voice had fled her. After clearing her throat, she found it had returned.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. Really, I do."

Sam hooked the watch to a belt loop and stuck it in her pocket. Then she grabbed her duffle bag and slung it over her shoulders again. She had actually opened the door and taken a step out of the house before she remembered Klara.

"Oh! Hey, dad? Can you do me a favor? There's a little girl in my room who came by earlier asking for help. I couldn't help her, but I somehow ended up feeding her and now she's sleeping on my bed. Could you tell her I got on my train and left when she wakes up?"

Sam's father looked perplexed, but he finally nodded. Sam smiled, thanked him, and quickly headed out the door. She wondered how her father was going to take care of her when she woke up, but she figured he could deal with her how he liked. As long as Sam wasn't around when Klara woke up, she was happy.

With maybe thirty of her fourty-five minutes wasted at the house, Sam was worried that she may have run out of extra time to get to the train station. She jogged now and then, hoping that the brief periods of a faster pace would get her there in good time. She wasn't so certain.

She was just passing through a rather populated area of Central when she heard shouting up ahead. At first, she thought nothing of it because there was often shouting on this street. There were many shops here and people sometimes disagreed with each other to the point of loud arguments. What drew Sam up short was when she heard the words that were being shouted.

"Everybody move! Out of the way! He's a dangerous man! Move!"

Sam could spot one figure running his way through the crowd. People were shouting, startled, and parting away from him. A few paces behind him were a small sea of blue uniforms, their guns raised but unable to fire because of the crowd of people that were still close.

Sam sighed. She'd get nowhere if this guy got away. He'd probably jump on a train and then the train would be held up. Or they'd block off this street in an attempt to block him in. So Sam dropped the duffle bag. She could still hear the people screaming for the pedestrians to move when the man ran straight up at her, pulling back his arm to attempt to force her out of his path.

The moment was so quick Sam wasn't sure anybody else was aware of what exactly happened, but in the next second the man was on the ground. She walked up next to him and waved slightly. There wasn't any point to it but to piss him off. Them he pulled out a gun. Oops.

The sounds of military men and gunshots ringing in her ears, Sam jumped to the side just at the right time. She hit the ground on left side and heard her metallic arm hitting the stone road. The 'dangerous man' turned a little- enough to draw something on the floor in chalk. In the next second, there was a sudden flash of light and the ground had risen up in spikes that were flying towards the military men. They barely dodged out of the way, thank goodness.

Sam got up, chasing after the fleeing man. He turned left sharply, into an alleyway. Sam rounded the alley, her own chalk ready for use, and paused just around the corner to scrawl her own transmutation circle. It reacted, and a wall of stone rose up before the man. He drew up short of the wall, put his hand on it, and then turned to view Sam.

The man was an older person with short black hair. The look in his eyes was the look of both the hunter and the hunted. As soon as he saw Sam, it was more of the hunter. Damn cocky grown-ups. Sam began to slowly walk towards him. She could hear the military men trying to regroup down the road.

"I know it's my fault for getting involved in the first place, but I absolutely hate losing. So if you don't mind-"

It was at that precise moment that she noticed she couldn't see his right hand. He was hiding it behind him, and the way his arm was turned suggested- Sam was suddenly pushing herself against a wall in order to make a circle of her own. If only she had reacted a little sooner, she might have been able to advert the spikes that flew from the walls and came at her, forcing her to flatten herself on the ground with a half finished circle on the wall. Rock spikes jammed in the wall right above her, Sam felt it would be a while before she moved again.

"You should learn to lose, kid." laughed the man before Sam heard his footsteps retreating into the next street.

The footsteps of many military men came clattering by as Sam wiggled her way from under the spikes. One stopped to kneel by her. She shooed him away, saying that she was fine. The soldier discouraged her from following the man again, which she understood. Still, the fact that she hadn't have been able to win bugged her. After a moment's hesitation, Sam headed back to the street to pick up her bag and head to the train station. Now she ran.

**Shieb: Whoa! Big chapter! But I've added a few things into it, including what will turn out to be a persistent character, so, like I said in the beginning, the chapter size has grown bigger. I refuse to let chapters get much bigger than this, though. Also, remember that if you have any interesting ideas as to what should happen to Sam, you should tell me. I'll put your name in the afternotes, if you'll let me. ^_^**


	8. Train Ride

~07~

The seats on the train were comfy and it seemed the train was not going to stay much longer. The whistle began to blow for the last boarding call. Sam looked out the window after double checking her bag.

Policemen and military men alike were running around the station. A couple of men had passed through the train Sam was on already, trying to look for somebody. Sam wondered if the man she had tried to fight earlier was the cause of this commotion. It wasn't unthinkable for him to make it to the station with time to spare, if he had been running. She couldn't think why he wouldn't be running.

Finally, the train began moving, much to the relieved words of other passengers who were on board. The scenery on the outside sped up. Sam could feel some anxiety she hadn't noticed until now easing so that the feeling in her stomach was not so tight. She wondered at the anxiety, but put the thought aside when she saw that the train had cleared the station.

The girl watched the world go by, faster and faster until it became a blur that she couldn't quite focus on. She dug her hand into her pocket and was surprised to feel something cold and metallic in it. Then she remembered.

Sam pulled out the silver watch and turned it over in her palm. This was her mother's. The thought still stunned her, making her both doubt and hope that it was true at the same time. But it also made her sad. This was the only link she had to her mother. Even when she had searched for her mother, in the place where she was told her mother would be, Sam had never seen a hint of the woman's existence. And now she was holding something that had belonged to her. So where was she now?

Someone who was walking down the center aisle of the train stopped next to Sam's seat.

"Excuse me? Are you Sam Penber?"

Sam looked away from the window to see a train attendant. Honestly, he looked more like a guard than an attendant of any sort. He didn't seem too happy, either.

"Uh… Yeah, why?"

A movement caught Sam's eye, and she looked down to see Klara. She was beaming, happy at having found Sam. She nearly tripped into the seat right across from Sam, much to the girl's displeasure. Sam looked at the attendant, pleading.

"She's yours to take care of now." the man said ill naturedly. He turned and stomped off to the next car, muttering something about a brat.

"I'm so glad I found you! When I woke up and your father told me that you were leaving on the train, I didn't know if I would be able to catch up with you!" the little girl gushed. She looked a little flushed and worn. "So I ran as fast as I could to make it to the train!"

"How did you get a ticket for the train?" Sam frowned.

"Well… uh…" Suddenly, Klara was avoiding eye contact. Sam's frown deepened, and she sighed, diverting her attention to the scenery.

"Whatever. I'm not going to throw you off the train or something. But you shouldn't cheat people like that."

"Cheat people?"

"Yeah, avoid paying people or taking money that belongs to them."

"I didn't steal!" Klara frowned, her stubbornness gleaming in her eyes.

"Not in the direct sense of the word, it seems."

The two rode in silence for a while. They shifted in their seats a couple of times. Sam changed her gaze from the outside to Klara to the people inside. Something was bothering Sam. She just had a bad feeling, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was about. She decided to put on her gloves. Maybe then it would stop bothering her.

"You know that even if you follow me, I still can't help you, right?" Klara glared at the ground while Sam spoke. "People can't be brought back from the dead; it's just not possible. Cut your losses before you do something really stupid."

Klara stood up suddenly. "I will not! I don't care how long it takes, I'll-"

Sam rose a little, her hand flashing to Klara's mouth to cover it. The girl's shouting had earned the pair a few looks from the other occupants of the car. Sam tried to ignore them. She kept her voice low, to make a point.

"If you're going to hang around me, however long or short it is, I ask that you at least keep quiet."

Then Sam let go, angry at herself for lashing out, however small the moment was. Klara sat down too, angry at Sam for the same reason, it seemed. The two avoided looking at each other for a few seconds.

The feeling kept bothering Sam, though. She couldn't help but glance about the car. There were a couple of men that she immediately didn't trust when she looked at them. They glanced at her and Klara a couple of times. It seemed they were surrounded by a nervous energy.

Oh well. Sam pulled her mind away from it, telling herself it wasn't any of her business. Whatever happened while she was away from home, she'd stay out of other people's problems. This would later prove to be something that Sam could not enforce.

Time passed. The train stopped at another station, letting on a few more people. Sam's uneasiness increased just a little bit; just enough for her to notice. When the train set off again, Klara started speaking.

"Where are we going, anyways?"

Sam frowned when Klara said 'we'. Oh well. It wasn't like much good would come from this either way.

"The Eastern city, I think."

"Why?"

"No real reason. I just want to explore this country. After all, I haven't been any farther out than Central."

"Central's still a big place." Klara said, her eyes wide.

"You come from a small town?"

Klara nodded her head, her braided pigtails bouncing on her shoulders.

"My town was really small. They barely had any stores and it was all mostly rural."

"Huh. Maybe I'll get to see it one day."

"Uh-uh." Klara said, shaking her head. Sam saw that stubbornness again. "You can't see it unless you keep me along with you."

"Huh… And what's going to stop me from going there without you?"

That seemed to bring Klara up short. Sam knew that she was just trying to find some reason that would convince Sam she had to stick with the little one. Klara still knew that she had to fight to stay near Sam and tag along.

"Well, you know-" Klara started.

"Sh."

"Hey!"

"I said shut up." Sam said quietly. Her attention was focused elsewhere. She thought she heard someone get hit and cry out. But now there was nothing but the train noises.

"Alright! Everybody stay calm!"

Sam and Klara looked to the front of the train car. The two men Sam had noticed earlier had stood up. They were handling guns and pointing them at people who looked even remotely like they were going to make a fight of it. Sam saw a child cling to her mother in fright.

"Now, we're only holding you for hostages until our demands are met by the military. So don't make a fuss and I'm sure you'll turn out alright."

Then they made sure the occupants of that car were alright with just sitting. One of the men walked by Sam and Klara's seats. He paused and looked at them, his eyes detailing what they were likely to do. Sam snorted and looked out the window. Klara was frightened, smashed up against the outside of the train, as far away from him as she could get. The man moved on, and Sam took a second look at the situation.

The gloves shielded most of what she would get from touching this train, but from what she could figure, there were people moving in all of the cars. Most likely, the entire train was being controlled. But the main concentration of people were… somewhere up front, in a first-class car.

Sam wanted to do something, but… She looked at Klara. The girl was terrified. Something about guns really spooked her. The men's dispositions didn't help too much, either.

The older girl took a sharp look around the train car. There were only two men in this car, and there were likely only two men in the car behind. They were wary of any military officials being here, so they were patting down everyone. Sam and Klara were exempt because they were kids. For once, Sam didn't feel insulted.

Well, Sam figured, there was nothing left but to wait. She wasn't going to get involved in this mess. This was the military's and this eastern extremist group's problem. Let them take care of it. Still, seeing the rough, arrogant way they used their words and pointed their guns, Sam wasn't happy with the situation.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Klara asked a few minutes later. Sam had turned her head to frown at the car behind them. She had heard something. A man getting hit, a couple of gun shots, and someone cry out. Or was it that she had felt it through the glove?

Sam didn't bother to answer, and instead rose from her seat to walk out into the center aisle. One of the two men in this car came up behind her, gun raised.

"Something wrong, girly?"

"Yeah. Something's going on behind us."

The man snorted in doubt and was about to say something scornful when there was a loud shout and thud. The two men leaned over to look around Sam and see if they could spot anything.

"I'll go check it out." said the first man to the second, moving around Sam so he could move from car to car. Sam glared at the first man, tempted to just knock him out. But then she felt a gun at her temple. She turned her head, looking curiously at the man behind her.

"If you try anything, I'll blow your brains out. So why don't you just sit back down, kid?"

Sam touched the train chair oh so lightly. Then she smiled and took a step back. Her sudden cheeriness unnerved the man.

"Certainly. As you wish."

Not a moment after Sam took a step back towards her seat, there was a startled shout, gunshots, and then another shout, but this time of pain. The second man, who had looked suspiciously at Sam for a time, now gazed warily at the door. He hesitantly took a few steps towards the door.

"Hey!" he called, waiting for his partner's response. "Dammit, this isn't funny!" the man shouted as he opened up the door. Then he gave a shout, and two bodies, one unconscious and bearing a bullet wound, were tossed down the center aisle.

Sam watched the two men land next to her. She leaned over from her seat and smiled. In fact, she couldn't help but just annoy them.

"Thanks for telling me to move. If I hadn't, you would've crashed into me."

"Why you-"growled the second gunman, squirming to push his partner off of him so he could get a shot at Sam.

Heavy footsteps brought Sam's attention to the person who had done this in the first place. Her eyes widened. It was a giant suit of armor. But what was more surprising was his voice- it was far younger than it should have sounded.

"That's enough. Quit causing these poor people trouble."

Sam glanced at Klara. The girl was no longer smashed up against the wall, but had instead quite forgotten to be afraid. She was now watching the suit of armor with amazement.

The guards were quickly tied up and made harmless, although there was a small tussle over it. Sam couldn't help but try and thank the man properly.

"Hey. Thanks for this." A glance around the car would tell one that others thought differently.

"No problem. I gotta get going, though. My brother's on the top of the train and if I don't secure the rear cars, we'll have a problem."

"Why don't I come along? Not that you'll need any help, being in a giant suit of armor and all."

"I really don't think-"

"Don't worry. I'll hide behind you and just help out if you need it." Sam smiled.

"Well, ok." It sounded like the suit of armor wasn't all too happy, but Sam ignored it.

"I'm coming too!" Klara said, standing up suddenly.

"No!" Sam's voice rang out immediately. "You'll be staying here."

"I don't trust you!" Klara affirmed, surprising Sam. But Sam just leaned towards Klara and stuck her tongue out.

"I can't run away while the train is _moving_, idiot! Anyways, you can't defend yourself if things get hairy, so you'll be staying here, where it's safe."

Klara glared. Still, she was silent, so Sam took it as agreement and turned to the suit of armor, who seemed eager to go.

"Tin cans first."

The journey to the back cars was rather amusing, although painful. The loud noises of a gigantic suit of armor would bring the curious guards. There seemed to be two a car, each one with a gun. Upon seeing the suit of armor, they would shout out in some way and begin shooting. Although the suit of armor was rather intimidating, his small voice would implore them not to shoot and try to warn them about the ricochet a moment too late. The guards were quickly tied up and tossed aside, and then Sam and the suit of armor would move to the next car.

Sam enjoyed moving and not having a small half-pint following her and nagging her about things that couldn't be done. However, walking with this guy while people were managing to shoot themselves wasn't exactly a walk in the park either. Even the gloves couldn't block out everything. Every bullet made Sam flinch as she felt some residual, fresh memory force her to relive what just happened from the victim's place.

Now and again, Sam would recognize the sound of footsteps over the roar of the train. Because she was following a suit of armor, she could only wonder just what his brother was.

They were near the rear of the train when Sam heard a commotion. There were people shouting in the next car. Several angry voices were heard ahead, and Sam started to figure out that the next car would be the last. The man she was walking with pushed her behind him and they walked out on the space between the cars.

Only now could Sam distinctly hear the sound of alchemy. She saw a familiar light, too, and could only wonder what had happened. There was certainly a lot of screaming and… was that the sound of water?

The door to the car burst open, another guard hanging onto the door so that the water that rushed past him did not hurtle him under the train. They were swiftly knocked out and propped up against the car.

Sam looked up to see the flash of alchemy from the top of the car. If she strained herself, she could almost sense someone on top of the car. Then the suit of armor turned towards her.

"I need to help my brother, so I'm going on top of the car."

"Alright. I'll wait here, just in case." Sam said. Then she shouted up at him as he climbed up the side of the car. "Don't get knocked off!"

All Sam knew was that there was a scuffle inside of the first-class car. She heard a few bullets one time, but knew nobody died. It was rather underwhelming to just wait outside while all of this happened. But things seemed to take care of themselves, so she wasn't particularly worried.

The door finally opened. The suit of armor's head poked out, and it seemed to smile.

"We're done in here, miss."

Sam walked inside to see a man with long, messy black hair knocked out and tied up. There was a man and his family. The man, one ear bleeding and black hair a little messy, was thanking a short boy with blond hair and a red coat. The boy turned to Sam as she entered.

"Wow." Sam said, unable to stop herself. "You're shorter than Klara."

Immediately, the boy was angry. The suit of armor had to stand in front of Sam to stop the boy from trying to pummel her. Very briefly, Sam noticed that the short boy had a metal arm.

The rest of the train ride was rather uneventful. Sam was forced to return to her car. If she hadn't, Klara would have been kidnapped by a guard who had successfully freed himself from his ropes. Sam ended up kicking said guard in the head with her boot.

Slowly, the scenery changed to that of a city. The entire way, Klara ended up questioning Sam about what had happened and telling the girl how bored she had been. Sam answered abstractly, putting no effort into details. This obviously annoyed Klara, which made Sam feel better. The girl felt Klara deserved a little payback for being an annoying leech.

* * *

There were military men all over the station. When they pulled in, Sam could see them rushing towards the doors. All of the extremists were pulled out of the cars one by one. They were properly tied up, and then escorted away.

Sam and Klara made it off the train when the leader of the group was escorted off. He sat on his knees quietly with his head down. But Sam and Klara paid no attention until a familiar figure entered the station- Sam immediately recognized Colonel Mustang.

Neither girl could hear what Mustang was saying. In fact, Klara didn't understand what was so special about that man.

"Who's he?"

"Colonel Mustang." Sam said while paying attention to her baggage.

"What's he like?"

"Hm… Well, he's assertive, pushy, and egotistical. Almost as annoying as you."

Klara glared. Sam swung her backpack over her shoulder.

There was a sudden flash of light as an explosion of fire appeared near Mustang. Sam turned to watch the smoldering form of Bald emerge from the flames. Klara screamed and leapt back, eyes wide. Sam laughed and Klara mistook the laughter to be for her.

"There's Mustang for you." Sam giggled. Klara tried to cover up her glare. "Come on, let's go before-"

"Sam!"

"Great." the girl mumbled unenthusiastically.

Sam turned to see Colonel Mustang striding towards her, the short boy in tow.

"Colonel." Sam said, noticing that Klara was sidling behind her.

"I wasn't expecting to see you outside Central."

"A couple of months ago, neither did my father."

"Why are you out here?" the man asked suspiciously.

"I'm just looking for the only piece of information that consistently avoids me."

"And what would that be?"

"Private. As usual."

Mustang made a noise while he frowned at Sam, clearly suspicious that she was going to do something stupid. He hadn't even noticed Klara, who was trying to find the courage to stand on her own, without Sam to shield her. Finally, Mustang turned to the boy next to him and the suit of armor behind him.

"Sam, this is the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, and his brother, Alphonse."

"We've met on the train. I followed Alphonse, though I daresay he didn't need my help at all."

"Yeah, we've met." Edward said, clearly steaming about Sam's last 'short' comment. Sam took the moment to look at Klara, and then at Edward.

"I lied. You're not shorter than Klara."

"Thanks." Edward muttered, steam coming off of him. His brother tried to calm him down.

"Edward also bears a metal arm- and from similar circumstances, might I add."

Sam looked at Ed, curious. The boy lifted up his right arm. His sleeve fell down and the glove he wore wasn't long enough to cover the shiny metal beneath. Sam smiled, lifted up her own arm and peeled away her glove.

"Nice to see someone who's like me, I suppose."

'_Or is it depressing?'_ Sam wondered.

"By the way, Colonel. Don't you have work to do?" Sam suddenly said, the idea striking her. She didn't want to talk to Mustang right now- he was too shrewd.

Mustang pulled a guilty face and avoided looking at Hawkeye, who gave him an intense stare.

"Well, yes, I suppose I do." He waved a hand in farewell and both Edward and Alphonse followed him as he walked away. "Stay out of trouble, kid."

Sam waited until Mustang was a few feet away before she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she shifted her gear, checked that Klara was paying attention (unfortunately, she was) and began walking off the station. People parted before her, eyeing her curiously. The girl supposed she understood. It wasn't everyday that you got to talk to the Colonel without formality. Not that Sam had earned it.

**Shieb: I am disappointed with my own writing, since this is basically just a rewrite of the train scene in the anime, but from a different point of view. If you read this, please tell me what I can do to improve this particular chapter.**


	9. Pain in the

~08~

"Aw! We're staying in a hotel?" Klara whined, her bag swinging energetically.

"Where else would we stay?" Sam was again occupied with her luggage, setting it on her bed and opening it to grab a set of clothes. She placed the clothes on the pillow of her bed.

"Why can't we stay in a house?"

"I'm not one of those rich people that have several mansions across the country, you know."

"Why not?" Klara whined.

"Because I'm not your savior!" Sam rounded on Klara, and Klara looked startled for a moment before glaring at Sam with equal intensity. "I'm not some messenger from God who can revive the dead, I don't have a perfect life, and I sure as hell don't have a lot of money. If you think tagging along with me is going to be the dream life, then you're gonna be in for a tough ride, kid!"

"You're mean!" Klara shouted back.

"Oh yeah. I'm much worse than mean. I'm merciless and rude to little kids who leech onto me without paying for a single thing. And you're annoying. I'm going out."

Sam strode to the door and opened it, her legs quickly whisking her down the hallway.

"I'm barely in the same room for half a minute and I'm already steaming." Sam muttered as footsteps indicated that Klara was following her. Sam looked at the little girl. "What're you doing?"

"Following you."

"Why?"

"You might ditch me." Klara said sniffily.

"Are you kidding me?" Sam exclaimed, stopping to motion back towards their room. "After I just paid for a two-bed room?"

Klara stayed silent. Sam made a frustrated sound and, checking that she had the room key and her money, made her way outside. Klara followed along doggedly, pushing her way through thick crowds of people that Sam purposefully strode through. The little girl would panic when she lost sight of Sam entirely, but would always emerge to see Sam waiting, a funny look in her eyes.

They proceeded this way until Sam stopped at a place to eat. Sam sat at a table, and Klara at a seat across from her. While Sam was preoccupied with the world outside, Klara seemed to be looking everywhere.

"This place sure is big." Klara whispered.

Sam nodded.

"I don't know if it's as big as Central, though. I don't think it is."

There was silence, then: "Sam. Am I really annoying?"

"Of course you are." Sam said quietly, her expression mimicking her tone of annoyance. "I didn't ask for you to follow me. You just appeared and placed yourself in my care, expecting me to do the impossible."

"You can do it." Klara said firmly. Her eyes were on the table now and her hands clenched.

"No I can't." Sam said, not for the first time.

"You have to. You need to be able to bring them back."

Sam looked at Klara, feeling pity, also not for the first time.

"I know how it is." Sam said finally. "You want it more than anything. You want to see their faces in more than just a picture frame, to be embraced. It'd be nice if we could all have a real family again."

Sam paused. Klara was still staring stubbornly at the table. Sam knew it wouldn't work on this little girl; she was too stubborn. But maybe she could get the girl to realize it, even if it was just a little.

"I want my family back too."

Klara's expression changed. Sam could tell she was thinking 'you have a family, you have a father.' But Sam knew that even if you lost just one family member, nothing was ever complete. Sam often wondered if having her mother back would have closed the rift between her and her father.

"But I'm only human, Klara. I am not a God, and I cannot give life to the dead. If I tried, it would be a case of equivalent exchange. What souls would you be willing to offer up in return?"

"I would use my own soul if I had to." Klara's voice was shaking now.

"That's not a family." Sam said softly. "That's a lonely dream."

Klara stubbornly refused to argue the point, so both the girls descended into silence. They ordered their food and quickly began chewing on the potato bits in their food. Sam was, of course, paying.

While both were enjoying their soup and bread, Klara began glancing up at Sam. Sam tried to ignore it and tried to push down her own annoyance. What was it with how easily this kid got on her nerves? Usually, Sam was more calm and composed. But Klara was still glancing upwards halfway through the meal, eyeing Sam's hands before looking back down at her own food.

"What are you looking at?" Sam finally said, sighing.

"Why do you wear gloves all the time? Is it because we're outside?"

Sam was confused for a moment. She looked at her gloved hands. Perhaps it was a little odd for someone to wear gloves like this everywhere, even when they were eating.

"Kind of."

"Huh? Kind of? What kind of an answer is that?"

"An unclear one." Sam said, looking at Klara with a totally frank expression. Klara glared.

"But why do you wear them? Are they special, like that watch?"

"Well, no."

"Take 'em off."

"Excuse me? Are you ordering me around, kid?"

"Aw, come on! Just for on the table, while you're eating. Please?"

Sam lifted her spoon and used it to point at Klara.

"What are you, an automail junkie? Is that it?"

"No."

"Then what's your problem?"

"You're the one who's wearing gloves."

"There's nothing wrong with gloves!" Sam could feel her voice rising. It must be the persistence that constantly pissed her off. Few were as stubborn as Sam, but those that excelled in that area never failed to annoy her.

In the end, Sam took off her gloves. She didn't do it happily. Sam and Klara were making such a ruckus that when Klara tried to force the gloves off, an employee came over to ask them to quiet down. Sam had taken off the gloves to avoid getting kicked out before she even finished her soup. It didn't matter much, anyways. The soup was already starting to get cold when Sam finally paid attention to it again.

The two left the shop soon afterwards, Sam with her gloves unhappily stuffed in her pocket. An irritated mood still followed her all through the streets of the Eastern city. Trying to get her mind off things, she headed to a busy street full of vendors selling a wide variety of objects.

Sam kept her pace slow so Klara could push her way through the crowd as well. Both gazed at baubles, gems, watches, and some automail gear. One man tried to sell Sam a blade that would attach to her arm, but Sam refused. Upon his persistence, Sam decided to take her anger from earlier out on the vendor. The crowd parted for her afterwards.

With her gloves on, Sam had almost forgotten how annoying it was to have her flesh exposed. Each touch on another person brought up the most emotional memory they had had recently. Fortunately, this didn't work with the metallic arm, but Sam was well beyond tired by the time she made it to the end of the street. She sighed, rubbing her temples as if this would calm the headache that always came after a lot of input.

"You alright, Sam?" Klara piped up curiously.

"I shouldn't have gone down a road full of people." Sam mumbled. At least this street was fairly empty. "Come on, let's go. We've wandered enough."

Sam turned to head down the street. She touched the wall of a building and tried to plot their way back to the hotel. It would probably be sunset by the time they got back; the sun was already closing in on the horizon.

The empty street opened into a street whose sidewalks were moderately filled with people. Sam could at least avoid them here, so she didn't really mind as she weaved her way through. When she accidentally bumped against people, she would flinch away. Her arm was beginning to grow sensitive, so that a touch felt like the stab of a needle, and her head was pounding. A man with a tan coat, dark skin, a scar across his forehead, and light hair walked in the opposite direction of Sam. He tried to avoid someone, but by doing so bumped into Sam.

_Sam was suddenly in a darkened alleyway at night. She reached forwards with her right arm, and her hand clenched the top of a man's head. Powerful muscles flexed and what was seen of the tattoos from under the coat sleeve lit up. The man's head exploded from the inside. Then she was at another street, a long ways away from the first. She dodged a few metallic spears before outmaneuvering her enemy and blowing his head up in the same fashion. This happened several more times, and each killing was driven by the need for vengeance._

Aware of her real body again, Sam withdrew her right arm entirely, holding it stiffly to her chest. She dove for the nearest alleyway and leaned against the wall, Klara shouting in fright after her. Sam was breathing hard and both her metallic and flesh hand were shaking. Images from what she had just seen kept flashing before her, vivid and realistic, though less so each time they returned.

Finally, the girl's breathing calmed and she was fully aware of everything around her. Klara's hands were on Sam's knees, and she looked frightened. Nobody from the street looked over curiously, and Sam could not have been more grateful. She didn't want everybody to see her break down.

"Sam? Sam, are you alright?" Klara asked pleadingly.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Why are you shaking?" Sam panted.

"You bumped into someone. Then you stopped, and then you… you started saying 'not my arm, not my arm, I didn't kill anyone.' Sam, you're not going crazy, are you?"

Sam gave a weak chuckle. Now she remembered. The vision had temporarily frozen her body while she was experiencing it. When she was aware enough to move, her frightened mind, still half locked in the visions, had made her mumble. "Not my arm. Not my arm. I didn't kill anyone. I could never kill anyone." She had taken to mumbling feverishly while she tried to banish the nightmares. How embarrassing. It made Sam realize just how much of a child she still was.

"Sam? What happened?" Klara withdrew her hands, apparently unaware that Sam was too stunned to get angry with her about it.

"It's complicated." Sam said, getting up and seeing how well she could stand on shaky legs.

"You always say things like that!" Klara pouted.

Sam ignored her little leech and approached the street again after putting her gloves back on. She looked both ways as if checking to see if a car was coming. A ways down the sidewalk, Sam saw the man she had bumped into. He looked at her for a moment, and then disappeared down an alleyway. Sam frowned, and she almost went after the man she believed to be a murderer. But Klara's hand had latched onto Sam's coat.

That's right. Sam had someone she had to take care of. She couldn't just go running off on a self-righteous bout while Klara could get involved in things. Sam may not like the kid, but she wasn't about to go and get the girl killed.

"Sam?" Klara said again.

"Come on. Let's go. My head feels like it's gonna-" Sam stopped abruptly, then turned down the sidewalk and began walking.

**Shieb: I'd really like you people to communicate with me here. What's your ideal chapter size, so that I can keep to it? 9 pages? 2,000 words? 4,000 words? My chapter sizes tend to vary wildly, depending on how long it takes to convey a story in mind, so hopefully I can regulate it with your opinions.**


	10. Scars

~09~

Maybe Sam should have left Klara there in the street. It would certainly relieve her of the headache. For perhaps a week and a half, Sam searched the city. For what, she wasn't sure, but she knew she would recognize it if she saw it. The entire way, Klara refused to leave Sam alone. She insisted that Sam might try and leave Klara behind, abandoning their 'deal'. Sam did not remember making any deal, and admittedly did think about ways to abandon Klara. The easiest way would be at night, while Klara was sleeping. But Sam slept like a rock during the nights because the days were so exhausting.

While at the hotel, Sam had taken to working out again. It provided a nice distraction, though it often times went on longer than Klara's patience. At least Sam was lean and would feel confident in a fight.

Sam now tended to avoid crowded areas, diverting to empty alleyways entirely when Klara somehow managed to get her gloves off. Klara's stubbornness had once redirected to Sam's watch. Klara had wanted to look at it, and Sam had stubbornly refused. They butted heads for a few minutes, and Klara had eventually reached for it. The little girl never tried it again, Sam's reaction was so fierce.

After finding nothing, Sam decided it was time to move on. Her money supply was dwindling by the hour and she figured that she may as well spend it on moving to the next place than let it evaporate here. Being stationary wouldn't help her find information about her mother- that was the reason why she left home in the first place.

The day they were to leave, Sam woke up early. She pulled her feet out of bed and sat there for a couple of moments, her hair in a mess. Then she looked over to see Klara sleeping peacefully. Sam got up and got dressed. Klara did not stir. Sam wrote a note and set it on the tableside. Klara did not stir. Sam checked that she had her watch and gloves, and then left out the door. Klara did not stir.

It wasn't as if Sam was abandoning the girl. The note said she would be back. Sam just needed some time on her own. It would be nice to breath without having someone track her every footstep.

Everything seemed almost depressing today. The skies were clouded and rain fell to the world below. It felt more like tears than anything else. Sam's feet pointed her down random roads, allowing her to navigate further and further away from her nuisances. Calmness took Sam again. The feeling was welcome.

There was a flash of a tan coat in front of Sam. The girl stopped, swearing she remembered the coat and the slash across his forehead. Sam looked around. There was no Klara this time. That was just as well. If she had been here, Sam wouldn't have been able to pursue someone she was fairly sure had killed before.

Quietly, Sam tried to tail the man. She stayed far away from him, making herself scarce. But he must have noticed, because Sam lost track of him. The girl turned to look down an empty alleyway the man had just entered, and she found nothing there. How could that be?

Put out and a little nervous, Sam kept walking through the city. She went from street to street, and then finally made it to what seemed like a city square. It was large and open, and the rise in the center peaked at a large clock. Sam saw the Fullmetal Alchemist there with his brother.

Something urged Sam to sit, so she did that instead of approaching Edward. She put her hands in her pockets and rested on a bench at the edge of the square. Tilting her head upwards, the girl stared at the dark sky and let her mind slip into thought. A strange nervousness was making her stomach feel uncomfortable. She remembered when she'd get that feeling in dreams and would close her eyes and hope it would go away.

"There you are! Mr. Edward! Mr. Edward Elric!" someone shouted.

Sam let her head turn down. The first thing she noticed was the man with the scar on his forehead heading straight for her. There was a military official behind him, heading for the Fullmetal Alchemist. At Edward's name, the scarred man gave pause. He turned and soon came to stand behind the military official.

"No, wait." Sam whispered, recognizing the scene at once. But even as she rose to her feet, she was too late. The military official was lying dead on the floor.

Sam could see that Edward was about to be handed the same fate. His legs didn't seem to want to move, and the scarred man was taking a step towards Edward. The clock suddenly struck and gonged.

"Al, run away!" Edward shouted.

Both the Elrics fled from the scene, the murderer at their heels. Sam tried to think. Was there a way to head them off? Oh, but there was no time to think. Her feet were already carrying her in the same direction as the three had gone.

But how would she help them? Sam checked her pockets, reaching for the chalk she always brought with her. She was startled when her hands met with nothing but the inside of her pockets. The chalk was still at home, probably in the pockets of the set of clothes Sam had intended to wear to the train. Damn it! How was she supposed to perform alchemy without a proper circle?

The three were too quick, and Sam rounded the corner to see the scarred man stepping through a hole in an alchemy-made wall. If she went into that narrow space now, it would be just like being boxed in. There had to be some other way.

Silently, Sam prayed the Elrics would last. Meanwhile, she sped past the alleyway and tried to find a way around, to the other side. It took some time; the streets here weren't as well connected as the rest of the city. By the time Sam had gone down two streets and rounded the corner, she feared she had been too late.

"You've gotta be kidding me! They're definitely dead." Sam muttered angrily to herself as she stared at the pile of rubble that closed off this end of the alleyway. The dust was fresh, so she guessed this had been a new addition.

There had to be a way through. Sam was driven to help the Elrics in some way. The rubble was high, but it wasn't impossible to climb somehow. Dealing with the rubble itself would be tiresome and wasteful. The girl eyed the shattered walls of the buildings, planning her route. She could almost see the best path to take, as if it were sketched out with blue mist.

Sam made a noise as she leaned down as if starting off on a race. People who had gathered and wondered what the ruckus was about stared curiously. The girl's leg tensed, and then she ran at full speed. She angled herself so that she was running sideways at the wall. Her feet pounded along the wall that was left, and then she launched off, twisting in the air to maximize how long she was airborne.

Landing wasn't exactly graceful, but Sam ended up on her feet and looked up, expecting a fight. She saw Alphonse, most of his armor shattered and the inside empty. Wait… He was empty?

"Sam!" Alphonse exclaimed.

Sam took a startled step back, a little surprised to say the least.

"Whoa! An empty suit of armor just talked! You've been empty this whole time?" Sam shouted before muttering. "How could I have not known?"

The gift of infinite knowledge had failed her, and this left Sam rather unhappy. Although it had often supplied Sam with useless information that she doubted she would use, Sam did not think a thing like a mobile suit of empty armor would have escaped her. It was rather irksome, but Sam had to redirect her attention. She had followed the brothers for a reason.

At the other end of the alleyway were the scarred man and Edward. Edward's arm had been transmuted so that it resembled a blade. It was obvious Sam had missed the majority of the party. Edward took the moment of his enemy's distraction to rush at the scarred man. But the boy was too slow, and Sam saw it coming. The scarred man grabbed Ed's arm, and it shattered into pieces.

With a snarl, Sam ran forwards. She had no chalk for a circle. She would have to be inventive instead.

"No! Don't! His arm-" Al shouted, reaching out with an arm as Sam rushed past.

Sam's hands touched in front of her briefly. She dodged the swiftness of the scarred man's hand by leaning backwards. What would have normally been a grave mistake turned into a good thing as Sam's hands touched the ground. The circulated energy reacted just as a circle would, and the ground rearranged itself so stone pillars rushed at the scarred man, forcing him to back off.

"I already know!" Sam shouted to Al, though her eyes were glued to her enemy. "His right arm destroys things with ease."

"How…" Sam heard Al mutter.

"You clapped your hands." Ed said numbly, and Sam turned to him.

"Yeah. So?"

"That means…" But apparently he wasn't intent upon finishing the statement. His head was bowed and his flesh arm came up to grasp the empty socket of his metal one before he started speaking again. "Forget about it. He'll do the same to you. Just leave me here."

"Brother, what are you saying?" Alphonse shouted from where he was, his voice bouncing oddly from his empty armor.

Sam turned to the scarred man and held up a finger.

"Gimme one moment, will you?"

Then Sam turned to Edward, raised her leg, and kicked Ed in the face. He sat up quickly, hand upon his cheek. His glare tried to burn unsuccessfully into Sam.

"What the hell was that about?" Ed exploded.

Sam made an angry noise and turned to the scarred man.

"Sorry about that. Where were we?"

The man raised his right arm, muscles tense, and then came at Sam, weaving between the pillars. Sam clapped her hands and put them on the ground again. A rolling wave of the ground pushed Edward even further from Sam and even more pillars tried to attack the scarred man. He expected it, of course, and dodged easily. Damn, he was fast! Sam dove to the side, avoiding his right arm. Then the man's left one came up, trying to maneuver her into a proper striking range. Sam absolutely refused, not allowing herself to touch the man at all. If he had anymore vivid or emotional memories, she might experience them. When that happened, the fight would end.

He was too fast for her and almost got Sam a couple of times. She was forced to the other side of the street, where she used the walls to leap above her enemy and land in the street again. As quickly as she could manage, Sam clapped her hands. She needed alchemy. But the man was just too fast, and as he turned, Sam knew she wouldn't be able to touch the ground.

The girl's hands stopped in front of her stomach, and she felt an out-of-the-blue idea for alchemy travel to her arms and react. The air compressed and glowed, and then shot off like a rocket towards the man, who was pushed back into the wall.

"Whoa." Sam said as she backed up and watched the man make his way out of the wall.

"So you are a State Alchemist." The man growled.

"…Huh?" Sam said blankly. The lightness in her feet had left entirely, so confused was she by this statement.

"I thought it was strange when you started shouting about my arm in the street, but then I saw your watch today. And your skills are a dead giveaway."

"No no no." Sam laughed weakly, lifting her hands and waving them from side to side. "You've got it wrong. I'm not a State Alchemist. This watch is a gift from my mother."

Sam moved as if to take out the watch and show the man, but instead placed her fingers on the bulge in her pocket. Her protective self didn't want anyone but her to see it right now. Perhaps she would be the only one to ever see it, at this rate.

"Regardless. I will destroy all obstacles that are in my way."

The man lifted his hand again, and then he was after Sam. Sam moved to get away from him while bringing up her hands to create a circle of energy by clapping, but the man was suddenly right in front of her. She wouldn't have enough time to even clap. So she brought up her automail hand to fend off the right arm.

The man grabbed Sam's arm, and there was a sudden alchemic burst of light. It threw Sam back and away from Scar, who looked a little puzzled and suspicious. Sam got up. She kept her eyes on the man in front of her while she unbuttoned all but the top button on her coat with her automail arm. Then she tore off the ruined glove from her metal arm and tossed it on the ground, her face tense with annoyance.

"Goddamn thing couldn't sense anything anyways." Sam muttered to herself to forget the loss. Then she spoke up to the scarred man. "You know when Edward said you'd do the same to me? He meant it literally." The girl raised up her arm for effect.

The man didn't care to listen for long. He was running before Sam had finished her sentence. Obviously, he felt it was urgent to finish things up here. A dangerous right arm reached for Sam's head as she tried to twist out of the way. Then Sam saw his eyes change focus, his body tensed, and he jumped away as the shot of a gun rang.

"That's as far as you go." Mustang said, raising the gun he had just fired.

Sam found herself staring. While she and the man had been fighting, several cars had lined up against the side of the road that Ed and Al were at. A ton of military men were lining the road. Their guns were out, and they had effectively surrounded the scarred man and Sam. Hawkeye was among them, waiting patiently behind her superior.

"What the hell, Colonel!" Sam found herself shouting. "You coulda been here a little sooner, you know!"

"I would have been here sooner, but we ran into a little problem. I believe this is yours?"

Mustang pointed to Klara, who was holding her own hand in front of her chest. The little girl's eyes were wide, and she almost smiled when she saw Sam again. Relief spread on her face. Klara made to take a step towards Sam, but she stopped very suddenly when Sam spoke- well, shouted.

"Don't you dare take another step forward!" Sam's anger was palpable in the air and Klara looked genuinely afraid. "Just stay behind the men with guns, you got that?"

Sam's fist had clenched and she felt an unimaginable amount of annoyance rise up and change to rage. This was just like Klara. Barely in Sam's general area for ten seconds, and Sam was already pissed.

"Looks like it was a close one, Fullmetal." Mustang continued on, ignoring Sam and her rage with a pleasant smile.

"Colonel, this guy's…" Ed started, but Mustang began speaking.

"This man is a suspect for the serial murders of national alchemists. But there's no doubt about it after taking a look at the present situation. So, you're also behind the murders at the Tuckers' residence?"

Ed made a face and turned to glare at the man. Sam's curiosity gave her a faint glimmer of information about what Mustang was talking about. The girl decided not to look into it further, the feeling she got was so bad. Her gut felt like it had twisted on itself.

"Alchemists are those that twist the natural state of creation to a degenerate form that is, in short, sacrilege to our creator, God." The scarred man brought up his right hand so it was in front of his face, clenched into a fist. "As the messengers of God, we are those that carry out God's judgment."

"That's something I don't understand." Said the Colonel. "There are many alchemists, but why are you targeting only those who have state licenses?"

"No matter what, if you intend to interfere, I will eliminate you too." The darker skinned man said with an ever-present scowl.

Mustang seemed to take up the challenge. He tossed the gun he had been holding back to a surprised Hawkeye, saying 'Interesting'. The man slipped on his gloves, a smile upon his face.

"Colonel Mustang!" Hawkeye insisted to have her superior's attention.

"Don't lay a finger on him." Mustang ordered.

"Mustang… As in the State Alchemist?" the scarred man asked.

"Indeed. Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist!" Roy announced, his hand moving to prepare to snap.

Sam looked up at the clouds from which the rain was pouring from. There was something very vague that she almost remembered. Had it been from a dream? No, it had been more vivid than that. A small speck of information had passed through one of those vision things she had had at one point.

The scarred man said something about the blessings of God, and Roy taunted him for his foolishness. The two got closer to each other, and Sam grew more annoyed as that piece of information evaded her. The scarred man reached out to grasp Mustang's head as Mustang went to snap- then Hawkeye kicked the feet out from under the Colonel. Hawkeye immediately raised her guns, aiming for the man before her. Somehow, every bullet was dodged.

Oh yeah. Sam remembered now. There was something about Mustang being unable to create sparks with his gloves while they were wet.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" The Colonel shouted.

"You're worthless when it's raining." Hawkeye replied seriously. "Please stay back, Colonel!"

Sam watched the scarred man's quick movement. He had somehow avoided the bullets, despite such a close range. And now he was smiling.

"And in addition to coming here, it's nice how you can't use your flame." He said. "State Alchemists! And those who are obstacles to my mission! I will annihilate everyone here!"

Sam was very sorely tempted to clap her hands and try to annihilate the man right back. However, there was a hand on Sam's shoulder. She turned to see a military man, his eyes nervously upon his superior's quarry.

"Come on." He said. "We should get you away."

"That's fine." Sam said, turning back to the fight.

A rather strange man had just entered the scene. He was spouting something about a technique that had been handed down in his family while the scarred one said something about divine protection. All this talk about God was starting to make Sam sick. After her interaction with the Gate, she wasn't exactly a glad worshipper of the being.

"I'm fine here. If I see an opportune moment, I can leap in. Besides, I'm kinda looking for a punching bag to take my anger out on."

The military man flinched away, sensing the dark aura that surrounded Sam. She was still steaming from past occurrences.

"But-"

Sam turned to glare at the man, and he sidled away for a moment. However, he had a duty to attend to. Instead of escorting Sam further away from the danger, he stood near her, gun at the ready.

The fight had turned rather strange when Sam turned back to it. This Armstrong guy had just cast off his shirt while he talked about how destruction and creation were two sides of the same coin. Sam couldn't help but agree, but she thought it unnecessary to display his overly large biceps.

"As an alchemist, you wouldn't think it was that powerful. Isn't that right, Scar?"

This sentence from the muscled guy caught Sam's attention. This guy, who was apparently called Scar, was an alchemist? As it was later explained, Scar's arm created alchemic reactions, but stopped at deconstruction. Thus, Sam concluded, the hole in that alchemy-made wall and the destruction of those houses in the alleyway to create a barrier. But… didn't this mean he was also the one who was performing sacrilege?

Sam kept watching the fight, waiting for some reason to jump in. Armstrong seemed to be handling himself. Still, Sam couldn't help but feel uneasy. There was a kind of assuredness in Scar's step. Armstrong made to swing after cornering the man. Then Sam saw it- the opening Scar could use to dispose of his enemy. But Sam was next just as confused as she had been sure a moment before. Armstrong took a step back.

Another gunshot sounded, this time from a rifle of Hawkeye's. Scar dodged-just barely. Sam watched intensely, waiting for something. Scar's glasses slipped off his nose and broke on the ground as Hawkeye reloaded. Then Scar looked up, to reveal red eyes.

Armstrong and Mustang were shocked. Sam's expression grew dark. She had read enough books to know what this meant. This man was an Ishbalan, probably a survivor of a dark civil war that had happened in Eastern Amestris. There was a stunned silence among the military folk.

"Just as I thought." Scar said finally. "I'm at a disadvantage with this many opponents."

"Hold it!" Mustang said, yet again commanding. "You don't actually believe you can get away when you're surrounded, do you?"

Sam got a nasty feeling. Something that screamed 'danger' sounded through the glove that separated her receptive skin from everything else. The girl tensed her legs and jumped backwards as fast as she could, dragging her bodyguard with her. Good thing, too. Not a moment later than Mustang had finished his sentence, Scar placed his destructive right arm upon the ground, and the stone fell apart.

Military men grabbed onto whatever they could to prevent themselves from being dragged down into the sewers. Those who were closest backpedaled quickly. A sudden bout of paranoia overtook Sam, and she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed how she had known what was going to happen before it happened. No one seemed to notice.

"That bastard went into the sewers!" Someone shouted.

"Don't follow him." Mustang affirmed.

"No way I'd follow a guy that dangerous." A blond officer said, obviously believing the very idea to be absurd.

Sam occupied her mind with checking her automail arm and rolling her flesh arm around in its joints. She inspected her coat and sighed at her discarded, now lost glove. Really, these things didn't matter. The girl was just trying to avoid going near Klara.

"Oh? Is it all over?"

Sam turned towards the familiar voice to see Hughes.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. Where have you been up until now?" Armstrong asked.

"I was in hiding." Hughes said, giving a thumb up.

Sam facepalmed while Mustang began chewing out Hughes. Then a small presence approached Sam. The girl turned to face her smaller companion, who was nervously fidgeting with her braided pigtails.

"Sam?" Klara said after hesitating. Sam just stared, so Klara tried to reach for Sam's hand. Sam withdrew it.

"Why are you here?" Sam said quietly, but intensely. Klara didn't answer, her hands again clasped nervously in front of her chest. So Sam continued. "Did you wake up and panic? Did you even see the note I left?"

Klara's startled look told Sam she had seen no such thing.

"I can understand the panicking thing. But did you… Did you come after me because you thought I was going to abandon you and just leave you there?"

Sam didn't continue in the silence, her furious gaze pressing Klara for an answer.

"Y… yes." Klara admitted finally. Sam's gaze grew more furious.

"And why's that? You thought I'd leave my money, my luggage behind for a chance to get away from you?" Her voice was rising rapidly in volume and she felt a powerful need to hit someone.

"Yes. But you… You _would_ leave me behind." Sam was shocked by the girl's assuredness. "Because you hate me, right?"

Sam's eyes widened. Then they returned to anger again. She tried to calm down and just barely suppressed her emotion.

"No, I don't hate you. You are a pain in the ass and you don't pay for anything yourself, which pisses me off to no end. But I can't really expect much else of you at your age, can I? After all, you didn't choose to rely on anyone other than your parents."

Klara began shaking. Tears had started shining in her eyes. Sam crouched down, lowering herself so that she was the same height as Klara, and put her hands on the little girl's tensed shoulders.

"I need you to understand something, Klara." Sam said firmly, and her tone brought Klara's eyes away from the cobbled ground. "What you did could have killed me today."

Klara's eyes widened. Sam was dead serious.

"You inconvenienced the military to try and get to me, and because of that, I almost died. If they had shown up a bit sooner, I might not have had to dance around the street like an idiot, and Ed might not have lost his arm, let alone part of his brother!" Guilt clouded Klara's gaze, but Sam pushed on. "Now, how do you expect me to help you if I'm dead?"

Klara collapsed. The idea of her losing her parents forever seemed to overwhelm her, and she dropped to her knees. Sam stayed where she was, an expression on her face making her look like she had eaten something too bitter. But then Klara surprised Sam. She gripped tightly onto the front of Sam's coat. Sam stiffened for a second, surprise evident on her face. Then she leaned forwards, letting Klara cling to her and putting an arm around the little girl.

Sam did not mean to spite Klara, but she could have died today. How did Sam expect her to carry around a little girl if she was constantly worried something might happen? Plus, Klara needed to learn that her actions had consequences, and she couldn't always get what she wanted. Damn it. Sam wasn't supposed to grow up like this.

"Why do you think I tried to keep you at home, Klara?" Sam asked softly over Klara's sobs. "I didn't want you to get involved in this. If you had been hurt, it would have been my fault. How could I forgive myself?"

**Shieb: Just wanna remind you to give me opinions so that I can improve this fic, and so that I'll be encouraged to continue it. I'd also like to thank -holy- priestess for being honest with me and bringing to my attention some errors, of which I've tried to fix. I'm glad you all find Klara annoying and promise I'll begin to tone her down as part of her character arc. ^_^**


	11. Burden

~10~

Sam wasn't quite sure why she had been dragged with Mustang and the others. Edward and Al needed to be made clear about Ishbalans, and Sam guessed Klara didn't understand anything about it, either. Still, the girl didn't see how she was involved.

Mustang and the rest of his squad, along with the Elrics, Sam, and Klara, were seated inside the room. Sam sat on a desk, facing away from Mustang and staring at the ceiling. Klara stood next to her, watching Mustang with an expression that was both awe and fear. Mustang was the one who was speaking, his face serious and his hands in front of him.

"The Ishbalans were a race of people in the east area who worshiped their absolute one god of creation, Ishbala. But due to differences in religious values, there were frequent conflicts repeated between the two countries."

Oh, Sam knew the entire story. 13 years ago, a soldier accidentally shot an Ishbalan child, and suddenly a war emerged. There was plenty of bloodshed, and the war lasted for a very long time. The Fuhrer finally called in the State Alchemists, and they were tested on the battlefield. As far as Sam was concerned, Ishbal had no chance at that point.

"That is why that man, a survivor of Ishbal, is justified in wanting vengeance." Mustang finished grimly.

There was silence in the room for a couple of moments. Then Edward made a noise.

"That's bullshit." He said. "There's no such thing as justice and crap in getting vengeance on innocent people. He's just wrapping his craving for vengeance by acting like a 'messenger of God' and being all high and mighty about it."

"But someone who despises alchemy is using that same alchemy to get revenge." Hughes stated. "The sort of people who don't care how things get done are the most dangerous… and the scariest ones."

"We also cannot worry about how things get done. We cannot die yet." Mustang opened his eyes just a bit to gaze at everyone else in the room. "The next time we meet, there will be no talk. We'll take him out."

"That's all fine and dandy," Sam sighed, turning on the desk to look at Mustang, "but what the hell does it have to do with me? I'm not a State Alchemist, and yet you dragged me here."

"Actually, I wanted to warn you. If you keep pretending to be a hero and running around like that, someone might get ideas and try to manipulate you into being a State Alchemist."

"Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Mustang?" Edward mumbled, glaring at his superior.

"Fat chance that I'd ever agree." Sam laughed.

"Sam, a State Alchemist?" Klara said wonderingly.

"I'd get privileges, a fat pay check, and access to an endless amount of books. On the other hand, Scar would suddenly be interested in killing me and I'd have to do whatever the state said." Sam looked at Klara. "It's not worth the props, as far as I'm concerned."

"A lot of money…?"

"Quit looking at me like that. I'm putting you to work, next town we hit." Now the girl sat back and put her hands behind her head, as if to lounge.

"Anyways, what are you Elric brothers going to do now?" Hughes asked.

"Yeah…" Ed began to scratch his chin. "I want to fix Al's armor, but I can't use that technique with this arm…"

"Shall I fix you?" Armstrong asked, flexing his muscles after tossing aside his shirt again.

"I'll pass." Al replied.

"I'm the only one who knows how Al's soul is bound to the armor, so first I have to fix my arm." Ed explained.

"That's right." Hawkeye said suddenly. "Now that Edward can't use alchemy…"

"Just another kid with a rotten tongue."

"A bratty little midget."

"Worthless. Worthless!"

"Sorry, brother. I can't say anything."

"That's bullying!"

Sam busted up laughing with Klara. Edward freaked out rampaging around on his seat about how he wasn't a pipsqueak, or whatever long version of the same thing he made. Perhaps it was true, though. Without alchemy, was Edward just a normal kid? Was Sam?

"I guess I have no choice." Edward sighed, exasperated. "I'll have to go to my mechanic."

"Look, I could understand the giant State Alchemist being your bodyguard…" Sam began, an anger vein pulsing on her forehead, "but how in the world have I been coerced into tagging along with you?"

"Beats me." Edward grumbled, seeming just as angry about the situation.

"Aw, come on, Sam! This'll be fun!" Klara smiled. "You wanted to go to a different place, anyways, remember?"

"Yeah, but that didn't involve being ordered to babysit someone who's fine on their own by Mustang when I'm not even _in_ the military!"

"Hey. I didn't _want_ you to be here." Edward protested.

"You didn't want Al to be treated like luggage, and he's in the back with a bunch of sheep, isn't he?"

"He's _what_?"

A knock on the window interrupted both hotheads, and everyone turned.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" Edward exclaimed.

"Hey."

The window was lifted and Edward and Armstrong leaned over so they could see and hear Hughes better. It made Sam a little uncomfortable; Armstrong wasn't exactly petite. Still, both Sam and Klara squished themselves into their seats as best they could.

"The guys at HQ were too busy to drop by, so they sent me instead. And I've brought a message from Roy."

"From the Colonel?" Edward looked quite perplexed.

"'Post-processing is a bit of a pain, so I will not allow you to die within my jurisdiction.' That's all."

"Tell him I said, 'Roger that, I will not die before you do, Colonel Shit.'"

Hughes got in a few hearty chuckles, and Sam and Klara snickered from their seat. Sam tried to conceal it, but Edward sensed her fun-making and spun his gaze around sharply, zeroing in on her and glaring threateningly. That didn't stop Klara, though.

"Wicked brats are aplenty in the world!" Hughes exclaimed. "You and that bastard Roy ought to live long lives!"

The train whistle blew, and Sam was able to sit back semi-comfortably as the military men showed salute.

"Well then, be careful on your journey. If you pop by Central, give a holler." Hughes smiled.

The train ride was only fairly annoying. It was the second train in a row that Sam had shared with Fullmetal and his brother, and she wasn't sure how that had happened. Klara seemed to calm down around other people, which made Sam a little angry. Why did Klara have to be nice when there were other people? Maybe if she spent her energy on them once in a while, Sam wouldn't have to deal with her.

Armstrong hadn't experienced very much concerning their journey. He asked what Resembool was like, and Edward described it as a mainly rural town with fairly little there. Klara seemed to enjoy the idea; it sounded just like home to her.

Armstrong had never seen an automail mechanic, either, so he was curious as to what they were like. Edward's wasn't just a tuner, but was also a surgeon and a prosthetic harnesser, which Sam understood. A lot of automail mechanics couldn't live on just automail, and so had to dive into similar practices.

"Which reminds me." Edward growled, his gaze cutting into Armstrong. "Why is Al in the back with the sheep?"

The next couple of minutes were full of another bout of fits from Sam and Klara. Al had been placed in a livestock car, treated as luggage. Armstrong seemed to think it was perfectly suitable- Al had company and plenty of space- not to mention it was cheap. Edward did not care how cheap it was. Understandably, he was affronted by the treatment. Finally, Ed huffed into silence while Armstrong continued to take up most of their seat.

Sam began to feel uneasy. She hadn't noticed it before, but it had grown over the extension of the train ride, and now it had become a bit of a nuisance. Calmly, she stared out of the window, trying to pinpoint the cause of her unease, despite the gloves.

"Sam?" Klara spoke up, frowning at Sam. Sam looked down at her.

"Yeah?"

"Something wrong?"

"Meh. I don't think so."

'_Not yet, anyways.'_ Sam thought to herself.

There had been something Sam wanted to do before she left the eastern city with Klara. It would have been nice to explain things to Klara- Sam's ability, as well as why it's important that Klara keeps her mouth shut and listens to Sam. There was no way Sam was willing to babysit when Klara ran around naively. Oh well, there wasn't much to do about it when there were other people around that she didn't want listening in.

"Oh! That's it!" Sam exclaimed, putting a fist loudly into her open palm.

"What's it?" Edward asked, still awkwardly squished against the wall.

"I've been trying to pinpoint this feeling halfway through the train ride." She made her voice many times quieter all of a sudden, making sure that only the people next to and directly in front of her could hear. "It feels like we've been watched for a while."

No wonder she was uneasy. Sam had become extremely paranoid ever since her alchemy had backfired, and some part of her had been convinced that there were malicious people out there who wanted to know more about her and what she could do. Instead of questioning her sanity and checking into the loony bin, Sam had opted to listen cautiously, just in case.

Armstrong took her claim seriously, though, and moved around in the seat, glancing critically about the train car. No one seemed to catch his eye, however, and he sat back down, squishing Edward even closer to the wall. Armstrong shook his head, telling the rest in the seats that he saw no one suspicious. Sam shrugged. Her intuition had never been wrong since the gate. Still, she didn't feel in danger, so she didn't press the subject.

Everyone was sleeping by the time they got to another station. It wasn't the one they wanted to stop at, so Sam opened her eyes for barely a fraction of a second before turning her head over to the other side. Now the unease became a sharp, stabbing pain in her stomach. She avoided it by snoozing, but something was even beginning to torture her dreams.

"Doctor Marcoh!" Armstrong suddenly shouted. "Are you not Doctor Marcoh? It's me, Alex Louis Armstrong from Central!"

Armstrong was leaning out the window again, making Edward uncomfortable… again. Whoever he was shouting to must have run off, according to the sounds Sam heard. She wasn't surprised. She'd pretend she didn't know Armstrong if he called to her like that.

"Do you know him?" Edward asked, curious.

"Yes…" Something seemed to be troubling the large man. Sam watched him for a bit. "He is a very capable alchemist from an alchemic research agency in Central. He took part in research to use alchemy for medical purposes, but disappeared after the Civil War."

Both Ed and Sam gave Armstrong their attention. Klara was still trying to sleep. Edward suddenly stood up, his feet hitting the floor harshly.

"Let's get off!"

"Oh? Were we not to get off to Resembool?"

Sam didn't bother. She woke Klara up and handed the girl her backpack. Then she grabbed her own luggage and got up, following Edward without more than some grumbling. Armstrong followed after them and then went to the back to retrieve Al.

As Sam stepped off the train, she felt her steps hesitate. Quickly, she looked around, brow furrowed. That feeling was still there, and her skin crawled as her brain said that the cause was nearby. Still, she couldn't see anything, even when she focused on where her intuition told her to look. A small step took her closer to what might have been the source…

"Sam?"

Sam turned curiously to Edward, who seemed rather impatient.

"What?"

"Something wrong?"

"You had a very intense look a moment ago." Armstrong commented.

"I didn't mean to."

"Well, whatever. Let's go! I wanna find Marcoh."

Edward strode away surprisingly fast for someone with such short legs. Sam followed after. Armstrong seemed worried for a couple of moments, glancing curiously at Sam, but she didn't return his gaze, so he became preoccupied with Edward's efforts to find Marcoh. Klara was the only one who seemed to remember Sam's strange behavior.

Armstrong turned out to be a great help during the search for Marcoh. He was a skilled artist, and he bragged that it had been passed down in his family from generation to generation. Sam wasn't sure why, but Armstrong tended to say this about any skill he happened to have, from his alchemy to his sketching.

After Armstrong drew up an incredibly accurate picture of Dr. Marcoh, the townsfolk immediately recognized him and began to describe him. Apparently, he wasn't known as Marcoh anymore, but was instead called Dr. Maulo. Sam suspected this was a result of Marcoh changing the pronunciation halfway through his speech. Maulo helped the people of this poor town with their unhealthy and wounded without asking for money or any kind of compensation, which was a great help to them. He was diligent and helped even those who were supposed to be laying on their deathbeds. One comment from a young woman informed all four that Maulo used alchemy in his treatments.

"So he took a fake name and hid in this village. But why did he run away?" Edward asked as they approached Maulo's house.

"When the doctor disappeared, I heard that some important, classified files also disappeared. There was a rumor that he stole them…" Armstrong said slowly as they climbed the steps to Marcoh's front door. "He might have thought that we were agents from his agency."

They stopped at the landing in front of Marcoh's door. Klara was interested in what Marcoh looked like since she hadn't seen him from the train, so she was intent upon the doorway as Edward approached it. Sam could feel a headache creeping up the back of her neck, and she recognized the feeling she got just before having a very strong vision. Nervously, the girl checked her gloves were still all the way up.

"Hel-LO." Edward said as he opened the door to the house, the second half of the word rising to an unnaturally high pitch.

A gunshot went off sharply, and Sam had to pull herself and Klara out of the way so that Edward could back away from Marcoh and his gun. The elderly man's hands were shaking as he held the gun, pointing it directly at the alchemists. For some reason, he was terrified.

"What did you come here for?" Marcoh shouted.

"Please calm down, doctor." Armstrong pleaded, but Marcoh talked right over him.

"Did you come to take me back? I don't want to go back there! Please! Just let me be…!"

"That's not true. Listen to what I have to say."

Sam could feel the headache begin to pound away at her head. Edward and Klara were more concerned with looking between Marcoh and Armstrong, both of whom were wrestling for control of the conversation.

"Then did you come here to silence me by killing me?" Marcoh went on.

"First, put down that gun."

"I won't be fooled!" Marcoh shrieked.

"I said calm down!" Armstrong exclaimed, throwing the box Al was held in on top of Marcoh, much to Edward's surprise.

"I couldn't bear to do it," Marcoh continued later, when things had calmed down and the alchemists had proceeded inside to sit down, "Even though it was an order from above, to be made to dirty my hands on it… It was truly a horrible battle. Too many innocent bystanders died."

Sam sat in her chair with her arms crossed, trying to keep a face of neutrality on. But the headache was slowly chipping away at her sanity, and her arm prickled with annoying needles, as if it had fallen asleep. Her mind wasn't completely there, where Marcoh and Edward were. The memories and feelings in Marcoh's house were so strong that they were starting to bleed slowly through her glove.

"What I have done are things that cannot be atoned for by just taking my life."

_Sam was wearing a mask. She swirled around a flask of red liquid, examining the contents within intently. The rest of the room was dark and blurry to her._

"Even so, I am acting as a doctor here for as long as I can."

"Just what did you research and what did you escape with?" Armstrong asked. Marcoh responded with a pained face.

_Sam was handing them over to the big brass. Three little red stones that could end this war. Still, there was unease in her stomach. Was this all worth it? Could she bear the weight of the lives these would help take- of the lives they had already sacrificed?_

"I made the philosopher's stones."

_She had to run, to get out. Panic made her heart beat too hard against her chest as she came to realize that she could not take it. There was probably no atoning for what she'd done._

"Sam?"

Sam turned to look at Klara, though she somehow seemed very far away. Just now, the girl noticed that her breathing was harder than it should have been, and her right arm felt raw every time she shifted it against her chest.

"You don't look so good." Edward commented, worried.

"I'm sorry." Sam rose from her chair, leaning on it briefly before finding her balance. "I'm not feeling very well, so I think I'll wait outside."

She tried to proceed to the door calmly, as if she was just feeling a temperature coming on, but…

_It haunted her every day. The terror that she would be found here, in this little nowhere town, where no villagers could pay for a doctor. Not that Sam cared. Anything that would take her even a little ways closer to redemption, even if she knew she would never reach it, was enough. But that haunted feeling… She could see their faces almost clearly now; the faces of the ones who might find her one day, and take back what she'd stolen._

Sam's metallic arm convulsively grabbed her right one, and her flesh arm immediately protested. Klara got up quickly from her chair, following Sam with speed, but caution, and the two proceeded outside, Klara closing the door behind them. Sam didn't stop at the landing, though. She continued down the steps and began walking away from the house. Anything to get away from it. She couldn't stand this.

_The faces became even clearer, particularly one. A female's face, with a dark allure. But there was an alarming sense of danger in Sam's mind as she saw this. The emotion simply said 'run'._

"Sam, where are you going?"

"Anywhere." Sam said harshly, still grasping her right arm tight. "Just away."

Even the town was permeated with Marcoh's feelings. Of course. He had been everywhere, treated almost everybody, and each treatment was filled with the darkness of his past and the vain wish for some sort of redemption. Sam would not be free of the torture of the Truth until she left this place.

"But what's wrong? Are you sick?"

"You could say that."

"…Sam? What's wrong with your arm?"

Sam looked while she stumbled. The glove had slipped down a little, showing that the skin had become various, blotchy shades of pink and red. She was even physically reaction to this torment. Tenderly, the girl pulled up the glove again and continued on.

The two reached the train station, and that was where Sam stopped. She could go no further without abandoning Edward and the others. Klara walked nervously around Sam, her steps lighter than usual, and sat down next to Sam, on her less sensitive side. A grey dog came up onto the platform and amused Klara for a few moments before coming to Sam. Whining, it nudged her flesh arm, causing Sam to cry out.

_The dog once had a broken leg. Its mind had been consumed with pain before a bright flash of light came and took the pain away. This dog loved the man who had come with that flash of light._

"Shoo! Get away from her!" Klara stood up, suddenly taking an aggressive step toward the dog. Said dog yelped and scampered off, wondering what it did wrong. Klara sat back down, looking worriedly at Sam.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sam?"

"It's fine. It's just pain, and it'll pass. Oh, that's right." She opened her eyes with the memory. "I was going to explain some things to you. Oh well. We'll have to talk later. I can't very well be bothered now."

Sam turned her head and looked as she saw a dim train pull up to the station. Out walked Marcoh, which caused Sam's brow to furrow with what little energy she had. Marcoh looked around, then was drawn by the sounds of someone in distress. He rushed over to help, and Sam watched as he took out a small vial full of red liquid. There was a flash of light, and she saw the relief on his face.

Well, that was odd. As the image faded away, Sam reflected on how she had never watched something in third person before. The prickling sensations began to dim down, and Sam took interest in the phantoms running around the platform.

Edward, Armstrong, and Al- in a box resting on Armstrong's shoulder- came back to the platform eventually, and seemed relieved to find Sam, although she apparently looked worse for wear.

"Ah, Sam. There you are." Armstrong said, and Sam cracked her eyes open to look at him before returning to her former position.

"Wow, you really look sick." Edward commented.

"Are you ok?" Al seemed worried.

"Is it contagious?" Ed suddenly took a step back as the thought struck him.

"No, it's not contagious." Sam said faintly. "And I'll be fine. I just…"

'_I just need to get the hell away from here.'_

"I just need some rest, is all."

"Are you sure we cannot help?" Armstrong persisted. "There is much medical knowledge in the Armstrong line, I'm sure I could find something to relieve you somewhat."

Sam bit back a sharp remark. Klara, seeing a hint of Sam's anger underneath the pain, glared at Armstrong, surprising and confusing him.

"No, that's fine. I'm going to deal with it."

"If you say so." Armstrong huffed.

Armstrong set down the box with Al in it and sat down next to Edward, who had seated himself next to Klara. Klara didn't want to touch Sam, for fear of hurting her, so Klara, Edward, and Armstrong were all seated a little too close to each other. Edward was the only one who seemed to mind, as he was squished in the center. Sam wouldn't have been aware of it if Klara had touched her at this point. Her mind was quickly slipping into darkness, with only vague voices making it through.

**Shieb: I didn't intend for this to be as long as it was. Oh well. Anyway, this is based around the end of Chapter 7 and the rest of Chapter 8 in the comics. Someone requested that Sam hang out with Edward and Al for a while, so I took the opportunity. Hope you're happy! ^_^ She'll be staying with them for a little longer, as well, so there's more entertainment coming.**

**I thought about the eighth chapter in the manga and realized that Sam wouldn't be able to do much, thanks to her Ultimate Truth thing... Marcoh wallows in his hatred of himself every day, so those feelings and emotions must be all over the town. I hope it's an interesting chapter, despite this.  
**


	12. Gift for Violation

~11~

'_It's been a while, Marcoh.' Said a seductive voice. It made Sam's heart race. 'What an unexpected result I've gotten…'_

_Her voice faded, but Sam was glad. She didn't want to hear more. She wanted sweet darkness to descend upon her again, as well as total silence. But, apparently there was no use in wishful thinking. The voices faded in again, this time accompanied by pain in Sam's left arm. Was that possible with a metal arm?_

'_When he sees those files… He will find out the truth… what you are trying to do!' Was Sam speaking? Or was that someone else?_

"Sam? Sam!"

The girl opened her eyes suddenly and looked quickly at Edward, who seemed to think Sam was angry with him.

"Uh… Are you feeling better?" Edward asked cautiously.

Sam blinked, and took a moment to think about it. She took a breath and noticed that breathing seemed to be easier. Then she took her automail arm and itched at the other arm, noticing that her skin wasn't as sensitive as it used to be. Surely, Sam thought she felt better overall. So she finally smiled and nodded.

"I am relieved." Armstrong affirmed, smiling back at Sam. "You seemed to be in enormous pain and mumbled in your sleep."

"Well, that's embarrassing." Sam mumbled. She looked out the window and was surprised to see that the scenery had changed drastically since she had first fallen asleep. "Are we almost there?"

"Yeah." Edward nodded. "We're in Resembool."

"Wow. It's so… green." Sam said. Edward responded with laughter, which Sam didn't appreciate.

The train pulled up to the station, and Sam was feeling much better. This place was open, and a breeze was playing with her hair. It felt good to be able to breath again, and there were no more visions or hallucinations to bother her or cause a headache. Klara seemed more afraid of Sam when she was smiling like this than when Sam was annoyed with the girl, which made Sam laugh.

They headed down a road, following Edward, after Sam found something to eat. Her stomach felt like it was trying to twist on itself and stick to her spine. Everything was so beautiful here, and it inspired Klara to begin telling Sam about her hometown. It was on the other side of the state, and was about as big. There weren't a lot of buildings, and barely any shops were there, but the fields stretched far, and there were a few very skilled workers there, with their various professions. Edward said it was very similar to Resembool, then. Winry wasn't famous, but she was the best automail mechanic he knew.

"Whatever." Sam laughed.

"Huh?" Ed turned to Sam.

"I trusted my own mechanic with my life. I'm not about to agree to anyone being better than him."

"We'll see how fast you change your mind when she changes my automail." Edward taunted.

"Whatever." Sam said again, sticking her tongue out at Edward.

A long walk upon a dirt road eventually lead to Edward's eyes lighting up as he recognized the house that was coming up before them. As they got closer, someone leaving the house greeted the group on their way by. Sam noticed a short, old lady standing outside the house, a pipe in her mouth. Also there was a dog who barked at them before sniffing at Al, once the boy in the box was put down.

"Hm, aren't you looking lively?" she said with a smile as Edward approached.

"Hey. We need your help again, Granny Pinako." Edward returned the smile. "This is Major Armstrong, Sam, and Klara."

"Pinako Rockbell." The old lady introduced herself while shaking each of their hands in turn. Sam almost laughed when she saw the lady's hands in comparison with Armstrong's.

With a puff, Pinako took her pipe from her mouth, and Sam couldn't help but wonder what she was frowning at.

"But in the time that you've been gone, Ed got small."

Sam turned to look at Ed, anticipating his reaction. He didn't disappoint, and with the incredibly tall Major Armstrong right next to him for added effect, there was more hilarity than usual. It seemed this button was one that the old lady pushed often, however, since the two immediately spat at each other with size-demeaning comments. Sam seemed to be the only one laughing with such gusto- Armstrong and Al stood by silently, and with some sort of exasperation. Ed was quick to turn on Sam, opening his mouth for a new string of insults, when a wrench collided with the back of his head.

"Hey Ed!" Sam looked up to see a very pretty blonde girl standing on the landing. "Didn't I tell you to call at least once before you show up for a maintenance check?"

"Winry, you jackass!" Edward returned, grasping the back of his head. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Welcome home!" Winry said, smiling.

What an odd family, Sam thought. She couldn't imagine father ever welcoming her home with a punch to the face, or something. For a moment, the girl wondered if she should be afraid of Edward's mechanic. However, they were all friendly enough, and the small group was readily greeted inside the house.

After a warm drink was made, Ed got straight to it- he took off his coat to reveal his missing arm and casually sipped his drink while stating that it got 'busted up.' The similarities between how he and Sam acted in such a situation were startling. Sam would have done nearly the same thing, if her mechanic weren't as lively as Winry.

The house was again full of noise as Winry exclaimed about her precious, 'first-class' automail. When Ed tried to brush it off once again, he received a wrench to his head. Sam tried to make herself unnoticeable, as her own automail had been a bit shaky since her tussle with Scar. Thankfully, Winry's attention turned to Al next, asking why he was all in pieces. Protectively, she asked what the two had been up to. Sam stared at the wall.

What was truly surprising was the amount of time the Rockbells decided they would take in order to finish Ed's arm and adjust his leg, for apparently he had grown. Three days. That was all they said they needed in order to get the job done. Sam had memories of her own mechanic working in a cluttered area, his face inches from the automail arm, working as diligently as he could. Still, her arm was crafted in a little over a week, despite the urgency of her request. So for these two to do it in three days was shocking.

"You look surprised." Ed said to Sam, who was indeed surprised. She frowned a bit, though, in response to his question. He had on a grin that reminded her of their earlier conversation.

"Not really. Still, not a lot of mechanics can work with that efficiency."

"Can yours?" Ed taunted further, trying to get something.

"Hm? You have an automail tuner?" Winry asked curiously while Pinako attached a spare leg onto Ed.

"Yeah. Gave me this."

Sam stripped her automail arm of its glove, showing Winry the shiny exoskeleton of her own automail arm. This arm was a little bit thinner than Ed's, making it look less powerful. Still, everything was sturdy and had functioned just fine for the entire time the girl had had it.

Winry gravitated over like she had an electrical field about her that drew her toward Sam. Sam, for some reason, felt a little bit defensive. The blonde girl seemed to have no sense of space when it came to automail, for she grabbed Sam's arm and began moving it about, testing connections and examining the design, her eyes sparkling. It was brighter than Albert's glint, but Sam recognized the look.

"This is run down." Winry sighed finally. "I might be able to repair it before you guys leave."

"No, I'm fine." Sam said, pulling her arm back. "You can look. I just don't want you taking it apart."

There was a brief expression on Winry's face that suggested that had been her very plan- to see inside, to the things she couldn't before. Then, with another sigh, she turned to the work that was immediately before her. Holding Ed's automail leg over her shoulder, she began to check off the things that she'd need to do.

"This is going to take all night." She finally said with a sound of annoyance.

"Sorry for asking you to do so much." Said Edward, glancing somewhat apologetically at Winry.

"You want to go to Central as soon as possible, right? Shouldn't I do as much as I can?" Winry reasoned. "Besides, I'll be getting oodles of cash from you in return!"

Winry smiled, smacking Edward good-naturedly on the back, but it sent Edward flying. He glared at her from the floor. Sam tried not to laugh. It was funny seeing the pipsqueak flying around like a rag doll, but Sam could sympathize. She couldn't function properly with her automail for a while, even when she was finally hooked up to the last arm.

Winry apologized, but she and Granny Pinako needed to get to work. They both went to their respective places, but Winry invited Sam and Klara to her room.

"I won't be using the bed much in the next few days, anyways." She said smartly. "You two can use my bed during the night. I'll need it back for a few hours during the day."

"It's nice to know you're not stupid. Albert worked so hard on my first arm, he fell asleep. When he woke up, the gears were still imprinted on his cheeks." Sam laughed. She pulled up sharply, wondering why she was so relaxed here.

"Oh, I've had those nights." Winry laughed, putting Ed's leg on her workbench and sadly placing the pieces of his arm down. "Now, I will not need the bed at night, but I would like some quiet."

Sam got it. Klara didn't. She went onto the balcony and started exclaiming about the dog, Den. Sam sighed. She'd have to babysit again.

"That's alright. I needed to talk with Klara, anyways. Klara! Hey, come on!"

"Sam! Can we go play with the dog?"

Sam walked to the balcony. Den was leaping at Edward's feet while Ed walked unsteadily down the road. Down below, Al was still in his box with the scraps of his body resting at the bottom.

"It seems the dog is preoccupied. Come on. Let's take a walk. I gotta talk with you."

* * *

It felt like it had taken a lot longer than it had in order to get Sam and Klara alone. Sam was so paranoid, starting with that first sensation after she had left the gate, that she fully intended to share her deepest darkest secrets only when there was no one else around. That's not to say that she was going to tell Klara about her worst character flaws or dark childhood memories, but there were some things about alchemy that she needed to clear up.

"Alright. I think we're alone."

"You think?" Klara said, glancing around the completely flat and abandoned wheat field around them. This place really was vast and open. It made Sam more nervous than usual.

"Watch it."

"So, what do you want?" Klara said hesitantly. She was playing with a piece of wheat nervously, twisting it and tying it in knots. "You're not going to lecture me about the last city, are you?"

"What?" Sam looked at her for a moment, and then shook her head quickly. "No, I've gotten over that."

Klara looked relieved. Sam wondered if that had been on her mind ever since the incident. Was that why Klara had been so attentive to Sam's pain? Sam didn't entirely remember everything that had happened through the haze, but she did recall Klara being extremely protective.

"No, I needed to explain something to you. I couldn't figure out how to say it around other people, so..." She paused, trying to think how best to explain this. "You found me, believing I had attempted to bring back the dead, right?"

Klara's expression got darker. She suspected another lecture, but she nodded her head. Sam did her best not to roll her eyes at the glimpse of childish stubbornness that Klara was so good at.

"And you should strongly remember everything from the last town, where I was in pain?"

Another nod.

"Well, the two are connected."

It was difficult explaining the concept. She started where Klara's misconception started: with the transmutation. She explained what she had been looking for was information, not to bring her mother back, since she didn't even know if her mother was dead. Nevertheless, the transmutation failed, and Sam lost an arm because of the rebound. She skipped the whole interaction with Truth and the gate.

Sam then moved on to explain the concept of this strange new ability she had. Soon after the failed transmutation, she began to know things she couldn't. She went through the basics of what the ability was, about how skin contact brought up memories- usually ones experienced with strong emotions. Klara understood how this connected with Marcoh. He had very painful memories. But she still didn't seem to believe Sam's earlier insistence that she hadn't tried to bring anyone back.

"Klara, listen to me. If I had even tried and failed to bring someone back from the dead, I would have hit the books again when you had arrived at my front door. It doesn't matter what you want. I can't do it. I'm nothing more than a human."

"No, you're more. That transmutation gave you a way to get more knowledge. You could find a way!" Klara exclaimed.

Sam walked away. She was done with Klara, and she had finished explaining everything she needed to- except...

"No more about that. I can't help, so I won't, but- listen to me! I need you to do something very important to me. All that stuff I just told you? Keep your mouth shut about it."

"Wait- why?" Klara exclaimed, almost sounding whiny.

"I don't have the heart to kick you out to starve just yet, so if you're going to stalk me, I figured you'd need to understand a few crucial things about me. I haven't even told this stuff to my dad, so feel special."

"But what about Edward? And Al? They had similar stuff going on, right?"

"Not necessarily. The story on them isn't clear, and it doesn't matter."

Sam turned abruptly, giving Klara a very stern gaze.

"Klara, I need you to promise right now that you won't tell anyone about this. I've had enough trouble trying to control it with all of the blood engraved in this country, and I'm going to have more problems with it. You had better not make things worse, or so help me I'll gag you and toss you in one of those empty barrels I saw outside Winry and Pinako's house."

"You wouldn't!" Klara declared.

"Watch me."

There was a very intense staring contest in which Sam swore she saw tears begin to well up in Klara's eyes. Then there was a rustling in the field, and the two turned sharply to see what threat might emerge. A friendly bark proceeded the black and white figure, and then Sam was on the ground, trying to regain her breath. She sighed once she could breathe again, and looked up at the panting figure.

"Hello Den." Sam sighed. How loud had she and Klara been talking?

Just as Sam suspected, Edward followed Den, emerging from the wheat stalks. He looked somewhat nervous, and the girl quickly understood that he had heard enough of the conversation to feel guilty. She felt incredibly stupid. How was she going to fix this?

"How much did you hear?" Sam said after pushing Den off of her. She placated his loving attention by petting him. Edward opened his mouth, but Sam was too quick for him. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Neither of you are allowed to repeat a word you heard here."

"You can't tell me what to do!" Edward exclaimed over Klara's protests. He seemed more concerned with Sam ordering him around than what he may have just heard.

"I can't?" Sam rose up, and she heard Den whine and back away. She felt somewhat threatened by Edward's presence now, and it gave her a fierceness that quieted even Klara. "Trust me, Elric, if you ever so much as breathe any of this to someone else, I will think of something appropriately horrible to do to you."

Edward made a noise of disbelief and put his one hand on his hip.

"Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't tell anyone. It's not like I believe your stories, anyways."

"What do you want me to do, prove it?" Sam said sarcastically, but she caught a curious gaze from Klara, who glanced away very quickly. "You've got to be joking."

"Well, it would make things easier."

"No. I'm not playing some childish games so that you can try and feel superior."

Sam sighed and started to walk away, but Edward reached out to grab her arm, try and slow her down. Maybe if he could talk with her, he could straighten this all out. Not that he believed a word he had overheard, something about the Gate giving her some kind of ability she liked to call Ultimate Truth or something, but it was still an interesting story. Why tell it?

Sam cried out almost before Edward touched her. Her entire body recoiled, curling up in an instant to pull away from him, and then a moment later she stretched out again and struck him. Edward went flying a few feet back and Den yelped, running a few feet away before hovering uncertainly. Klara was very confused, as uncertain as Den. Should she approach Sam, curled up in a tight ball and sobbing, or should she flee and find someone else who could take care of it? Fleeing held a special taboo to it, now that Sam had forbidden her to tell anyone anything. Edward got up, shocked, but skeptical.

Sam didn't see anything around her. Some small part of her held onto the fact that she was in the middle of a wheat field and should shut up for the sake of discrepancy, but it was largely overrun. She saw happy memories of two very little young boys, but every happy memory she saw was paralleled by a very, very bad memory. One minute, they'd be gathering fruit, the next the fruit dropped and their mother fell, lifeless. Then they were first learning alchemy from their father's books, and suddenly they were using that alchemy to try and bring their mother back, but-

She couldn't help it. She screamed before subsiding into sobs again. How was she supposed to fend this off, this wave of emotions, pain, and sharp images? How had just a simple touch accommodated all this? Was she wearing her gloves? She couldn't tell. Was he wearing any? She didn't know. The only thing she seemed capable of was crying because of all the alien emotions, and shouting for Edward to keep his distance when he tried to approach.

Klara was smart, for once. She grabbed Sam's metal arm and used it to haul her back to the house. Sam stifled her sobs, but she felt very sick, and she knew no one would think her healthy. The girl still couldn't pull herself from the memories. They were pervading her mind, taking control of everything she saw. Sleep was the only escape. And even then, it was a very grim, brief escape.

The crack of dawn met a very tired, sore Sam. She didn't open her eyes for the longest time, instead focusing on the sound of Winry working, which seemed to slowly become louder. When she decided to see what was around her, she did it cautiously, and waited for the light to become less aggressive. Finally, she felt brave enough to sit up.

It was pathetic, hesitating so much to do the basic functions. However, everything she had experienced because Edward had been stupid enough to touch her had left her feeling incredibly vulnerable. There was little hesitation before she decided to test different fabrics and see which ones might be more capable of blocking this ability as soon as possible. Her gloves were still on at the moment, but she saw a small bulge where Ed had touched her. Had her skin inflamed there?

The sparks stopped flying from Winry's workbench, and she sat up, sighing and stretching. Blearily, she looked at the grey light on the horizon. Very suddenly, she caught sight of Sam. Sam wasn't sure whether she should smile reassuringly or not, but she was too slow. Winry smiled.

"It's nice to see you're up. We were all worried about you." she said tiredly.

Sam looked down at the blanket she had in one fist. What was she supposed to say? 'Thanks, I'm better now?' Ed and Major Armstrong had seen the same thing twice, and Ed knew the theoretical cause. There was no way they would believe a simple 'I'll be fine now'. Nor, by extension, would Ed's family. So she chose not to say anything.

Klara came in right then, holding a bowl of water and a cloth in one hand. Sam felt her expression darken when she saw it. This wonderful 'gift' was making her feel weaker and weaker by the second. Now people were having to take care of her, almost like when her father had incessantly insisted on making sure she was safe, always.

Klara set the bowl beside the bed and soaked the rag. She reached up to put it on Sam's warm head, but Sam moved away. The little girl seemed worried about this.

"You need to cool down." She stressed.

"It was pain, Klara, just pain." Sam said irritably, pushing the girl's hands away and throwing the blankets off of her. "I'm not going to die from this."

Sam got up and tested the sturdiness of her legs for a moment. All seemed well, so she cautiously moved to the balcony. Nobody was outside, so it was a safe place to feel the breeze without being noticed. Hesitantly, she peeled the glove off her right arm, looking where the skin had puffed up, looking almost like a burn. It was still a bit tender to the touch, but she was almost certain it would calm down.

To be honest, Sam couldn't say she was surprised. Edward may be an idiot, but he had gone through a lot in his life. A touch from him had given her such a strong reaction, even through the glove. This ability seemed to affect her physically as well, especially on her right arm, so it made sense. She still didn't like that it happened, though.

The door opened again.

"Hey. Klara, Winry." Edward yawned. "Pinako says breakfast is... ready."

Sam could only assume he had just seem her in his morning haziness. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, and Sam finally turned around. Edward's eyes were on the ground, pondering something that seemed to contest with his infinite ego. He hadn't really changed into proper clothing yet.

"I wanted to apologize." Sam said before Ed could attack himself. "I invaded your privacy, and it wasn't right of me."

Edward blinked, entirely confused. Winry didn't seem to know what had happened in the first place, so she was watching both Sam and Ed with interest. Klara was still staring at the wet cloth in her hands.

"I would really rather pretend nothing happened, but I couldn't if I tried." Sam continued. "So, if there's anything you want to ask, I figure it's only fair for me to answer you honestly."

"Uh... yeah." Edward said after a few moments. "I'll, uh, think about it."

Then he turned and walked down the hallway, not closing the door behind him. Winry looked at Sam intensely for a few seconds, and Sam almost felt as if she was being watched suspiciously. She couldn't entire figure why, unless Winry had feelings for Ed, like Ed had a crush on her. God, she wasn't supposed to know that. Damnit.

Normally, Sam wouldn't have cared about her ability being used. She didn't decide to apologize to Marcoh, after all. But everything she had seen in the last night was so personal, Sam almost felt as if she had been in the wrong. That idea, of course, was absurd. Ed was the one who pushed boundaries.

No matter how much Sam wanted to disappear for the day, the fact still remained that she was a human, and she needed food. Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably, and she could feel the acids threatening to turn on her stomach lining, so she turned to head for the door. She paused by Klara and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not going to die, Klara. You should know I'm too stubborn for that."

Winry got up, stretched, and followed Sam out to eat. Klara followed a few minutes after. It was the first time Sam noticed her smile looked a little forced. It did make Sam wonder, though. Things made sense if Sam theorized that Klara was afraid of Sam dying. Sam was the supposed only way to get Klara's parents back, and after her parents died, she should logically be terrorized by the idea of anyone dying. It almost made Sam feel sorry for her. Almost.

Sam was greeted into the kitchen with relieved comments from both Armstrong and Pinako. The whole household knew that this had happened once before, which made it harder to pass off. That wasn't to say that Sam tried any less.

"Just a bad allergic reaction."

"I've never heard of someone recovering without treatment so fast." Armstrong said, apparently thinking he was complimenting Sam.

"Are you sure you should be out and about if you're going to collapse at any moment?" Pinako said quietly, removing her pipe for a moment.

"I can usually predict when it's going to happen. This adventure threw me a couple of loops, that's all."

Sam glanced at Ed, who was focusing on his fragrant breakfast. Pinako didn't seem entirely convinced, but she was wise enough to know that she couldn't force Sam to do anything. Armstrong, likewise, seemed to realize that Sam would deny any problem, and instead went on a very long speech including various skills that the Armstrong line had mastered throughout the generations. It made for a lively breakfast.

Ed began testing the waters by asking small, pointless questions. Sam, true to her word, answered honestly, but shortly. In order to make up for accidentally invading the darkest corners of his past, she would have to do this. Besides, it was only two days until they would leave. Ed would go to find whatever information he had gained from Marcoh, and Sam would definitely head somewhere else. She didn't want to stay around someone she was obliged to be honest to.

**Shieb: I don't feel like this is much of a chapter, and I'm not very impressed with my own writing. However, it does have the basic parts, so it functions. The last two chapters have mainly been exploring the problems that Sam's ability cause her personally. Next chapter, I promise to get more movement.**

**You know, as I write more of Sam, I learn a few things about her. For example, she's very much like a soldier. Not surprising, really, since she was raised by one, but it might explain why she gets in mini contests with Edward and doesn't like losing. Also, it explains why she doesn't like being around the Elrics and Rockbells, who are such good people, she feels she can relax around them.  
**


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